


Never Too Late

by SerenityTWD



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 91,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityTWD/pseuds/SerenityTWD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing the possibility of spending another winter without shelter, the group is holed up in the woods on the border of Georgia and South Carolina when Daryl stumbles across a stranger in the woods that ends of offering them sanctuary in her home. Scout, a former police officer, is the last survivor of her family and has been on her own at her parent's home since the previous winter, when her brother was murdered. After coming face to face with a fellow hunter in the woods, she allows them to take shelter in her home for the winter months with the promise that they leave as soon as the weather is safe to travel with children.</p><p>This story takes place nearly a year after Beth's death and goes off-cannon after the MSF. It will be a Daryl Dixon/OC story. I am almost done with it and plan at this point to post a new chapter on Sunday's, but that may change to 2 posts a week once I finish writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[](http://s31.photobucket.com/user/speclagntx/media/f243fef2-crop-680x200_zps0b26b683.jpg.html)

Time had long passed since the last time she had tried to keep track of what month it was, let alone what day. Chunks of time was now calculated based on the conditions of her surroundings; the color of the foliage, the abundance of leaves in the trees or littering the ground, the moist humidity in the heat or the bone chilling breezes that cut through your clothes like a knife. No longer was there a need to worry about getting to bed early so that she could work out before heading to the department for a grueling twelve hour shift, no need to make plans for a night out with friends, and no need to worry about upcoming birthdays, anniversaries or holidays with loved ones. In fact, there was nothing to look forward to at all anymore.

Why you ask?

Well, that’s a question that is both easy and hard to answer. Easy answer is that the fabled apocalypse that was so popular in movies and books had descended on humanity like a swarm of flies at a barbecue; terrorizing communities, eating its way from town to town, cutting a swath through the very fabric that held so many lives together. Gone was the once predictable daily lives of countless people; those who were now condemned to stumble blindly through the remaining days of their existence in search of sustenance even though their bodies were no longer technically alive. That’s right, people were dying and coming back to life…technically. Their slowly decomposing bodies were walking around and searching for the remaining living people to dine on. Seriously? How fucked up was that?

The hard part of the question is why? Why was this happening? What had gone so horribly wrong to cause this destruction of human life? Religion could lead one to believe that this was God’s plan after all. Didn't the bible say that the dead would inherit the Earth and walk again? Maybe the religious leaders had it all wrong when they preached to us in our Sunday’s finest; blindly accepting their words as the word of Him. Of God. Maybe He isn't what our ancestors thought he was. Maybe, just maybe, he’s just bored and playing one heck of a game with humanity.

Or, better yet, maybe He’s not there at all.

That’s the stance that Laura Jean Grace, or Scout as she’d been called for as long as she could remember, had finally come to accept. Hundreds of days, countless hours wasted, spent in the local church since childhood had not prepared her for the unrelenting terror that was now her life. Gone were the days of laughter, of love, and especially, the days of happiness. Alone and scared, she faced each day with the grim mindset that this might just be her last sunrise.

Perched on a tree limb about a mile and a half or two miles from the home she was raised in, Scout surveyed the land that now belonged solely to her. Hours and hours had been spent exploring the woods that stretched out around her family home for miles and miles on the border of Georgia and South Carolina since the turn; the only proof of life being that of the wildlife around her. She hadn't seen another person in months, well over half a damn year at this point. Well, that is, unless you counted the rotting corpses stumbling randomly through the area on occasion.

Which she did not.

Come to think of it, Scout hadn't seen any stumbling dead in a while, either. Maybe a couple of weeks, but she really couldn't say for sure how long it had been. Their absence didn’t give her false security though, and she was prepared for whenever they might show their ugly faces again. Raised in a family of “Preppers”, those who feared the end of the world and prepared for it relentlessly, she was trained to bow hunt and use a myriad of firearms for security, as well as for nourishment. While the house was stocked with canned fruits and vegetables, dried meats, beans and grains, as well as MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat) that her parents had squirreled away over the years, Scout only used those when it was too cold outside to grow anything and meat was scarce. Gone were the days of eating for pleasure, of stuffing yourself to the point you had to unbutton your pants for relief, of glutton. Now you ate for survival, eating meager portions that were rich enough in calories to keep you alive.

In theory, one that can hunt can keep starvation at bay so long as animals haven’t disappeared and that’s what she was out doing this morning. Armed with her bow, along with a knife and a pistol just in case, she waited patiently for her prey to roust themselves from their evening slumber and wander towards the edge of the creek for some water. She didn't need anything too big, as it would be difficult for her to get it back to the house for processing, but it wasn't uncommon for her to bag several small animals in one hunting trip.

Bored, she leaned her head back against the rough bark and studied the canopy of leaves above her head. Bright green popped vividly against the luminous blue sky above, but the tips of some were tinged with oranges and browns; signifying that the arrival of autumn was near. She pegged it to be somewhere near the beginning of September, but couldn't be a hundred percent sure. The very thought of the inevitable arrival of cold weather marred her face with a frown. This would be her very first winter totally alone, since the death of her brother just before the previous spring.

For a brief moment Scout allowed the grief to wash over her and cause tears to sting behind her eyelids; before scrubbing a hand across her eyes to wipe away the evidence of her pain. Crying got you nowhere in life; especially nowadays. She tugged the hem of her t-shirt upwards and wiped her nose, a move that would have sent her mother through the roof. Ladies do not wipe their noses with their clothes, which was one of the many rules of decorum in the Deep South. One final wipe, and one final sniff and she was done, just in time to see a rabbit scuffling along a row of bushes near the lake.

Scout readied her compound bow, a pretty sweet black and pink one aptly named the “Home Wrecker” that was light enough for a woman at barely over three pounds but packed a punch and had a range of up to 280 feet per second. Zero-tolerance limb pockets along with axle-mounted dampeners for weight also did wonders for reducing the vibrations; allowing for a steadier aim than what she’d had using her brother’s compound bow years ago. With the bowstring tight in her fingers and pressed slightly against her cheek, Scout followed the animal for a moment as she waited for the perfect shot. As she scanned the area, Scout was surprised, and damn near allowed the shock cause her to slip from her position in the tree, when she spotted a well-worn pair of brown boots poking out from the brush.

Not moving, completely still, and not stumbling around led her to believe the boots were either stuck there on their own accord or belonged to someone who was very much still alive. Scout remained poised for attack, although she no longer watched the unsuspecting rabbit hopping along peacefully, but kept her attention sharply focused on the boots. The damned boots that were infuriatingly refusing to move from their hiding spot.

What seemed like hours passed, but in reality the movement of time was closer to a minute or possibly even less, when the owner of the boots in question finally showed himself; and sure enough, they were neither strolling along on their own accord or full of icky corpse legs. Scout watched, curiously, as the first real live person she’d seen in well over half a year moved forward two paces and placed a well-aimed bolt from a crossbow through the head of the rabbit she’d been hoping to have for dinner. Quiet as the proverbial mouse, Scout kept him in her eyesight and followed him with her bow as he recovered his kill and tied it on to a string that looped over a belt; which was already heavy with his previous furry woodland creature kills. She counted no less than five other squirrels, at least three chipmunks, and one beaver; which worried her. Surely he wasn't going to eat all that meat by himself, so exactly how many people was he trying to feed? Scout normally consumed a squirrel or other smallish creature a day, unless the day had been overly taxing.

Something fascinated her about this stranger, other than the obvious being she hadn't seen another living, breathing human being in months. No, it was something else entirely; something she really couldn't put a finger on. He was grungy and obviously in need of a bath, with hair that was way past needing a trip to the barber shop and ripped, dirty, bloody clothes; it was obvious he had been in the woods for quite some time. Decked out in biker gear, boots and well-worn leather vest that was adorned with a pair of faded angel wings on the back that intrigued her as he certainly didn't appear to be an angel; maybe a demon though, as he looked closer to sin than an angel would. He moved through the woods with a stealthy grace of someone who had spent his fair share of time stalking prey. His footing was light and sure, although he managed it with a strut that more than hinted to an air of self-assurance.

No stranger to the woods either, Scout waited until he was a good bit away from her before sliding from her perch and following his trail. Raised to hunt and track, her father had made sure that both she and her older brother were more than capable of caring for themselves long after he was gone; something they shared with him, but their younger sister had not.

Light footed herself, Scout’s thin soled knee high moccasins barely made a whisper as she glided through the forest in search of him. She told herself it was strictly a recon mission to see who, or what, had moved in to her neck of the woods, but knew in the back of her mind that loneliness and curiosity were more than a little responsible for this exploration. Watching for signs of his passing, a scuff in the dirt floor here, a bent twig there, Scout trailed behind him as he made his way southward along the edge of the creek until he came to a narrow enough area to cross without getting soaked. Hidden in the shadows at the edge of the tree line, Scout observed as he deftly navigated over a spotty patch of stonework, managing to barely get the hemline of his pants wet, before climbing the incline just on the other side and disappearing from her sight.

Hesitant, she considered her options. Sure, she knew these woods like they were her own house, but did she want to risk her safety to satiate her curiosity? At this point they were more than three miles from her house, as the crow flies anyway, and shouldn't be much of a threat. But, on the other hand, he was the first person she’d seen in ages and while she yearned for human contact, she was also smart enough to know that he wasn't alone and it was in her best interest to at least see what type of threat he and his people might be. In the end, Scout knew what she was going to do and was halfway down the hill and across the stone paths before she let herself admit to doing something stupid. She swiftly climbed the incline, pausing briefly to poke her head up just a bit to scan the area before moving on any further. He had a good bit of a head start on her now so she had to really focus and search for signs of his presence now. She’d tracked him about another hundred yards or so before catching the smoky scent of a nearby fire and knew she had located his camp.

Heart pumping, pounding loudly in her chest, Scout tentatively eased forward until the faint edge of a clearing came in sight. Knowing high ground is always best, she quickly slung her bow over one shoulder and around her torso before she shimmied up a tree; a skill she’d grown quick to learn as a small child and had only grown better at over the years. Now, perched high above the group, she could observe them without them observing her….hopefully.

Ten people. Well, nine and a nugget, really, since one was only a baby. But, either way, a small formidable group when compared to her lonely number of one. And damn near in her back yard.

Not good.


	2. Chapter 2

Still as a statue, Scout watched them. Studied them. After a short time, she deduced that there was only one actual couple, but that they all seemed very comfortable with one another and that led her to believe they’d been with one another a long time. The tall lanky man with the beard and shiny, slightly ostentatious revolver slung low on his narrow hip at least on the surface appeared to be the leader. The others tended to flock towards him, gesture to him to make decisions and wait for him to tell them what to do, with the exception of the man she had followed here. He fluttered around the edge of the group, part of their circle, but somehow seemed to be separate. He busied himself with cleaning the days kill, disposing of the unused entrails in the fire and preparing them for the group. A loner by nature, but still part of the group.

Scout watched them as though they were a television show, one of those reality shows her baby sister enjoyed watching back in the day. She enjoyed watching them interact with one another and a part of her ached to be touched, even a simple comforting hand on the shoulder at the end of the day. She sat with them through their lunch and through the peaceful nap of a sleeping babe surrounded protectively by her family. Scout knew she should leave even though she continued to watch the group. She knew she was pressing her luck the longer she stayed, but she still had a hard time convincing herself it was time to leave.

Her heart ached as she watched them interact with one another. Her body yearned to be held the way the Asian man wrapped his arms lovingly around the slender brunette woman. But her mind knew that such things were not meant to be in her life.

She was meant to be alone. The events of the past two years clearly proved that.

The sun was dipping low in the sky and she knew it was time to head back home. She had been there too damn long anyway; her aching backside was proof of that. Scout gave herself a few moments to watch the group before sliding out of the tree, landing on the ground with barely a sound. With the late afternoon sun peeking through the leaves, she retraced her steps and made her way home.

~~~

Although it probably wasn't the smartest idea she had ever had, Scout returned to their site every day for damn near a week. Slithering up to her perch high in a nearby tree, this time with at least a snack as she was famished by the time she made it home the first day! She stayed every day for a few hours, enjoying her new favorite show, before sliding back down the tree to make the trek back to her house.

She made it six whole days before she messed up.

Call it laziness, complacency, or whatever else might fit the bill, but on that sixth day she let her guard slip a little further than it should have. A little after lunch she’d been heading home, had already crossed the creek and was navigating through a series of paths and traps she’d helped her brother set up before he died, and had even managed to snag a few squirrels along the way, when the loud crack of a snapping twig startled her.

Bow at the ready, Scout ducked slightly and tiptoed off the beaten path to take cover in the nearby brush. Just as she slipped behind a thick oak tree, she caught sight of him not far behind her! Heart beating quickly, she waited for him to pass before stealthily slipping in quietly behind him; the faded and dirty angel wings on the back of his vest were almost close enough to reach out and touch. They’d covered just a few feet when he whipped around; his crossbow almost at ready, but not quite high enough for a kill shot. She’d caught him off guard, thankfully.  
“I don’t think so.” Scout said calmly, although she was basically gargling her own rapidly beating heart at this point. “Unless you want an arrow in your eye”. Silence passed between them, eye contact never wavered as he apparently considered his options. Scout silently sighed with relief when he lowered his weapon with a look on his face that was a cross between a grimace and an angry scowl. “Who are you and what the hell do you want?” Scout managed to sound more assertive than she felt and was proud she at least sounded like her shit was together.

“Same as you,” He replied gruffly, gesturing with his free hand towards the string of furry creatures tied at her waist. “Don’t mean no harm.”

“Then I suggest you go back the way you came.” Scout knew that letting him go back to camp and tell the others about their encounter was dangerous. She really should just put an arrow through his eye and be done with the whole deal, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Obviously, watching them for the past week had been a very bad idea as she had allowed herself to get to know them; however peripheral her knowledge of them was. Gesturing with her bow, Scout made a wide berth around him as to allow him to head back to his camp; never showing him her backside. “And don’t make the mistake of coming back this way again or things might end differently.”

The man grunted and conceded with a barely perceivable nod, that’s all, and his silence was damn near infuriating to her; although she couldn't say why it bothered her so much. As he left, crossbow not quite at his side and not quite at the ready, he backed away from her slowly until he was able to dart off the path in the direction he came from. Scout stood there waiting for him to step back out on to the path and let a bolt fly in her direction, or for the rest of the group to pop out and say, “Boo”!

By the time she let herself lower her own bow, her hands shook and her breathing was erratic. Talk about an adrenaline drop. That was too close! How did she not hear him coming up behind her? Clearly she’d dropped the ball on this one and she prayed that she wouldn't pay dearly for her mistake later.

After her nerves calmed significantly and she was fairly sure that he had truly gone back to camp, Scout headed back to the house; making sure all the traps were still set as she took the long, roundabout way back. Tonight was definitely going to be one of those nights where she didn't get much sleep; instead lying awake listening for sounds of intruders, dead or alive ones.

Once back at her home, a sprawling two story yellow siding house with green shutters and window boxes where delicate pink flowers lived, Scout went about her daily chores. She made sure the small garden was watered, the two goats and the chickens were safe inside their separate enclosures as well as fed and watered, that the metal grates on the windows were secure, and did a final perimeter check to ensure that all fences were still in good shape and that the gate was locked up tight. While her place wasn't Fort Knox, it’s location off in the woods provided a safer place than most. Plus, the back dropped off to a rocky cliff and the creek ran along one side; which offered at least a distraction for would be interlopers. The house was surrounded by a thick wooden fence and barbed wire; complete with a heavy metal cattle gate at the drive. For added security after the turn, she and her brother had installed various traps around the house and down in the woods, and had even spent the better part of a month digging a trench in the drive at the bottom of the hill before chopping down several trees to put across the roadway. It wasn't one hundred percent safe, but it was better than what other people in the area had had.

Knowing that there would be no more in her bloodline raised here saddened her more than it had in a long time. She was the last survivor of the Grace bloodlines. Seeing the baby in that group had hit her harder than she thought. Shaking away the morose thoughts, Scout went in to the house to prepare her meager meal of squirrel and beans.

~~~

Daryl Dixon wasn't known for being easy to startle or sneak up on; least of all by a woman. Staring down the pointy end of her arrow poised directly for his right eye socket, he figured it was in his best interest to preserve his life and lower his own bow. After all, if she wanted to kill him she would have already done it by now, right?

There was once a time in the beginning of this madness when he would have shot first and asked questions later, but even he could admit that he’d changed a lot over the past couple of years. Best thing to do was assess the situation, stay alive, and report back to the group. No sense in dying alone and leaving this woman and her people to pick off his family. So, in concession, Daryl lowered his bow, but only partly. He wasn't an idiot, after all.

At a standstill, Daryl watched her as she considered her available options. While there was nothing overly remarkable about her physical appearance, tall and lithe, with dark hair knotted at the nape of her neck, she was clearly an attractive woman; more pleasantly attractive rather than stunning. However, it was her eyes that made him stare at her a little longer than he probably should. He couldn't recall ever seeing anyone with different color eyes; one the color of milk chocolate and the other as blue as the sky.

When she finally spoke up to ask his intentions, her voice never wavering or showing any emotion other than straight up business, he pointed at the animals tied at her waist and said, “Same as you”; although he hadn't quite racked up the kills she had already. Daryl figured that if anyone was with her hunting they would have already made an appearance, which meant she either had a camp with others nearby or was on her own. Other than pointing an arrow at his eyeball, she wasn't being overly threatening and Daryl was plagued with what to do. He had enough blood on his hands and didn't want to have to get more if he didn't have to. If she made him he would kill her without a second thought, but at the moment it appeared as though two hunters had crossed paths and now they had to choose which path they were going to take from here. At a standstill, Daryl raised one hand in concession and assured her he meant no harm.

It was now or never really. Decision time. To attack or not to attack, that was the question.

Without dropping her gaze or her bow, Daryl watched as she widened the berth between them and circled around ahead of him as she informed him where he needed to go and where he needed not to go again. Realizing she was giving him an out, Daryl nodded in agreement and backed away from the situation. Daryl hoped he had read the situation correctly and handled it the correct way, but figured if he hadn't he would know soon enough.

Once he was at a safer distance from the dark haired woman with the bow still pointed in his direction, Daryl slipped behind a row of trees and headed to camp. Now he had to explain to his people why he let this woman go…and did he really know himself?

Back at camp, Daryl rested his crossbow against the fallen log they had been using as a makeshift bench and pulled up a piece of bark next to Rick. Before anyone could say anything about his abnormally short and fairly non-fruitful hunting trip, Daryl leaned in closer to Rick and said gruffly, “Ran in to this woman out on the trails. Seemed alone. Didn't nobody come to help her out.”

“You find out anything? She got a place nearby?” Rick leaned forward eagerly. They’d been searching for a place to call home for the winter months and the thought of suffering through the cold months without shelter with Judith had Rick being a little more intense than usual. If that was even possible. “We need to know how many people she’s got with her.”

“Hell, hate to say it, but she got the drop on me. Popped out from behind a goddamned tree like a damned ghost.” Daryl begrudgingly admitted. “Didn't see no one else. Played a game of chicken and she told me to get lost, so I did. Didn't kill me. I didn't kill her…hell, even I know the whole damn thing was a bad idea.”

“I assume you can locate her if she’s still in the area.” Rick stated, knowing full well Daryl could locate her if she was still in the woods. “First light, we head out.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Scout was out checking the fence line again, a task that was never ending in the world as it was now, when she instinctively felt that she was no longer alone. Nothing outwardly signaled approaching danger, but her gut was telling her to run and the hairs on her neck were standing at attention. Darting back to the porch, she jerked open the screen door just in time to grab a rifle, turn around and aim as a figure came out of the woods on the west side of the property; the only area where the fence ran through the trees creating a shadowy area at the edge of the property. Squinting against the sun, she was able to make out the outline of a man with disheveled hair, sporting a crossbow.

“Are you deaf or just dumb?” Scout asked as she stared down the barrel of her AR-15. Figuring he hadn’t returned alone, assuming he really wasn’t stupid, she nodded towards the woods and took a chance. “Tell your friend to come on out.” Sure enough, the man she’d presumed to be the leader of the group stepped out from the camouflage of leaves. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Ma’am, we don't mean no harm. We’re just here to talk.” Rick took his hand off his Colt Python revolver and raised them in front to show he wasn’t a threat and nodded at Daryl to do the same. Once Daryl had lowered his bow, Rick continued, “We’re looking for some help.”

“Yeah, because I haven’t heard that line before.” Of course, they didn’t know about the last time she’d come across people in need that had inevitably led to her brother’s death. “Better yet, why don’t you guys go ahead and lay those weapons on the ground? Yep, just like that…now take a couple of steps in front of them.”

Rick felt stripped and vulnerable without his revolver and he knew Daryl sure as hell didn’t feel right without his bow, but they both still had their knives tucked into the waistband of their pants if needed. He had to appreciate the tactical maneuver of having them stand in front of their weapons and wondered if that was something she’d been taught after the turn or before. From her vantage point if they went for their weapons she could easily and quickly shoot them before they could turn around and bend down to pick them up. Definitely worked in her favor…especially since she was sporting a tactically tricked out semi-automatic rifle instead of the compound bow Daryl said she had the day before.

“We've done what you asked, now would you mind at least lowering your weapon?” Rick’s question was met with a noncommittal grunt and steely eyed glare, but she at least took her finger off ready and moved it to lay on the side of the gun above the trigger guard, as well as lowered it to point at their nether regions instead of their heads. “I guess that’ll have to do. Thank you. I’m Rick Grimes and this is Daryl Dixon.”

“We've met briefly. Didn't really have time for formal introductions though, as I was telling him to keep his ass off my property. Since he didn’t listen I can only assume you’re here for one or two things and neither works out best in my favor, right?” Scout had imagined this day would come, she knew that being on her own wouldn’t work with the way the world was now and that her time would come eventually. But that didn't mean she wasn't going down without one hell of a fight. She’d be damned if she was giving up her home or letting them do who knows what to her without giving it all she had. “You might be able to take this place from me, but just imagine what I can do before it’s over.”

“No one has to get hurt. We aren't here to do any harm, just as I said.” Rick stated calmly, all the while he slowly inched away from Daryl so that there’d at least be some distance between them if she opened fire. “We’re looking for a place to stay for the winter. Somewhere safe. I’m hoping you can help us out.”

“And if I don’t want you here? What? Do you really think I believe that you’ll just give up and head back to your little group?” Scout smirked as a flicker of surprise passed over their faces when she mentioned knowing they had more people with them. “That’s right. You moved in on my land, you don’t think I know what’s going on in my back yard?”

“Then you know we have kids with us. A baby. It’s not safe out here with them in the cold months. Just a safe place to stay until it’s warm enough to travel again, then we’ll be out of your hair.” Rick hoped the mention of kids, especially of Judith, would play on her maternal instincts, because even after everything they’d been through he still didn't want this woman’s blood on his hands. What Daryl said was correct, if she wanted to kill them they would likely be dead already. It was just that type of world now. “I’d rather this go smoothly than the alternative, ma’am.”

Scout truly didn't know what to do. While she could easily dispatch the two of them the sound of her rifle would undoubtedly send others looking for their fallen comrades when they didn't come back to camp. This was definitely a moment when she wished her level headed, very decisive father was still here with her. Logically, the best thing to do was just concede and allow the group to move in for the winter months and pray that they left when it got warmer. Illogically, she could just shoot them both now and risk the possibility that there were others in the woods waiting to attack if something went wrong. Was she really ready to die today?

The answer was no, she wasn't ready to die today.

Lowering her gun in defeat, Scout said, “Against my better judgment, go ahead and get your group. But, you leave when it gets warm enough to travel, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. And, ya’ll do your fair share around here. I don’t need everyone using up my personal supplies; you hunt, you grow, whatever else you can think of, but you’ll help pull your fair share. I’m Scout, by the way.”

Without waiting for a reply, Scout turned and went in to the house with only the sharp crack of the slamming screen door following her. Knowing this was the last night in her house alone for a good long while there were things that needed to be done; first of all being a shower.

~~

Dark was beginning to fall before they arrived with surprisingly few items; only a bag of personal belongings and a weapon each. She had no idea how long they’d been on the road or camping in the woods, but by their appearances up close Scout could tell it had been awhile since they’d had a shower or clean clothes. Each one was sporting clothes with more than one tear in it, blood splatters and dirt ground in to the point of no return. This group had definitely not had a good shower in a while; much less a hot one. While hot baths or showers were few and far between for her, it didn't mean she couldn't have one when she wanted since the hot water heater was one of the items in the house ran solely off solar power; along with the small freezer on the porch, as well as refrigerators in the kitchen and basement. Scout generally preferred to use the rain water shower that was set up outside during the hot months, only using the hot water in the winter. While water was supplied to the house by two separate wells, she tried to conserve it as much as possible, too, and use rainwater when available. Pity and a good deal of Southern manners made the decision for her…hot showers all around for this group straightaway; at least for the sanctity of her sense of smell, if nothing else.

Introductions went around, and Scout pointed out where the bedrooms were located on the top floor. “There are four on the second floor with two bathrooms, and there’s a small sleeping area up in the attic with a single bed. I figure that’d be a good place for the boy, uh…Carl, right? Plus, the den has two couches, one of them folds out.” She turned to Rick and continued, “The room at the top of the stairs on the right has a cradle in it.” As much as she tried not to let emotion show, there was a lump the size of Nebraska in her throat at the mention of the cradle. It had been in her brother’s old room and was where her niece, Olivia, had slept when she visited. While she missed everyone in her family dearly, the thought of her three year old niece was almost too much to deal with. Thankfully Rick didn't ask what had happened to her sweet Olivia. He just nodded in understanding and put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly; the touch damn near brought her to her knees. Maybe having people around wasn't the worst thing in the world…maybe. Clearing the lump from her throat, Scout continued, “There’s a half bath downstairs off the hallway. Take any rooms you want, except the master downstairs as that’s where I sleep when it's cold out. There’s hot water, but I ask that you use it sparingly because I am not sure if our water heater will provide for a group this size; it’s run off solar power. Towels are in the closet at the end of the hallway and there are some old clothes in the dressers. Um, I guess that's it...just make yourselves comfortable.”

The chorus of thanks and grateful smiles was damn near enough to bring on a God complex to anyone, but Scout just felt uncomfortable. Mumbling that they were welcome, she hurried down the stairs and made a quick stop in the kitchen to set out a box of powdered milk for the baby, before she headed back outside. While the master bedroom was in deed hers now, Scout preferred sleeping outside during the hotter months. After the turn, she and her brother had both retreated to their family estate instead of staying at their previous residences. Scout had gone so far as to bypass her childhood bedroom in favor of being closer to one of the entrances to the basement that was tucked away in the closet of the master bedroom; while her brother had chosen to sleep on the foldout couch. Her father had planned this house meticulously when she was in junior high school. She never knew what led to him building what amounted to an apocalyptic sanctuary, but Scout sure was grateful that he had nowadays. Along with the solar power panels on the roof and two wells, there was a bunker-style basement below the house complete with six rows of steel shelving units, five shelves on each, stocked with canned and boxed food, along one wall there was several food grade safe buckets of sugar, salt, and grains. The other wall held six Murphy style fold down bunk beds, along with a cabinet full of clothes and linens. And, finally, the back wall was a veritable arsenal stocked with shotguns, rifles (both hunting and security style), a few pistols and her brother’s and father’s bows; plus ammo, arrows and gun cleaning and repair supplies. The basement could be accessed through two locations, one through the master bedroom closet and another through a hidden door in the kitchen pantry; both required a combination that was now only known by Scout.

The basement was definitely something she was not going to share with her new house guests.

Once outside, Scout made a beeline for the biggest tree and climbed the rope ladder dangling from above to climb upwards in to the tree house her father had built for her eighth birthday. While the furniture that he’d put in it back then was far too small for her now, Scout had managed to drag a twin mattress in to it with a series of pulleys and a lot of cursing. After her brother had been killed, she couldn't bear to sleep in the house alone; every little creak and pop of the house sent her in to a whirlwind of panic that someone, or something, was trying to get in. After a few days of sleeplessness, she’d decided that the tree house, the higher ground position, was the safest bet. First off, most people would check the house which would give her time to attack or get away. Secondly, the non-living couldn't climb a tree, or she hadn't witnessed one do so thus far.

Since it was still too early for sleep, Scout sat on the mini deck with her legs dangling between the spindles and gave in to a craving for a cigarette. While she’d smoked here and there in college, she had never really formed a true addiction to the nasty things until after the turn. She had been surprised to find that cartons of cigarettes was one of the things her father had stocked in the basement, along with various types of alcohol; odd since he hadn't partaken in either. Lighting up, she inhaled deeply and slowly let the smoke leave her body as she leaned against the wooden wall behind her.

Daryl’s nose picked up the scent immediately from his location on the side of the house. A smoker since childhood, living without his minimum daily pack of smokes was probably what caused him to be a temperamental jackass most of the time. After checking both the back and front porches he came up with no culprit and was stumped for a bit. That is, until he glanced upwards and saw the telltale burning ember glowing in the darkness. Sure enough, as he grew closer to the oak tree, Daryl spotted Scout up above in a tree house; her legs bouncing back and forth from where they dangled between the railing spindles. He had to give to the woman, she at least seemed like she knew what she was doing since that was exactly the spot he had picked out to sleep when the others had chosen comfy beds inside the house. Standing below the tree now, Daryl asked, “Hey, you spare one?”

Silence.

And then he was hit square in the face with a cigarette. No verbal response needed apparently. Luckily, he had a lighter. Lighting up, Daryl inhaled deeply and savored the burn in his lungs. “‘preciate it.” He called out in her direction; acknowledged yet again by a deafening silence. Shrugging, Daryl pulled up a patch of dirt and rested his back against the trunk.

He wasn't offended by her lack of communication; he was pretty non-verbal himself. In fact, he liked Scout a little bit more for the silence.

And, Scout? Who the hell named their daughter that anyway?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed the previous chapter I posted on Sunday. Now that I am nearing the final pages of this story, I will start posting twice a week on Sunday and Tuesday.

Inside the house, most of the showers had been taken already and new clothes passed around. Lanterns and candles had been lit in a couple of rooms, giving off a warm almost homey glow. Michonne was with Rick, who was in the living room feeding Judith a bottle of milk, very thankful that their host had set out the powdered milk so that he found it; that, along with a can of peaches that he’d smashed with a spoon, was very welcomed by the little one. Maggie and Glenn were still tucked away in their new bedroom, doing what you could imagine a freshly washed married couple might be doing. While Carl was in the attic scouring through the stacks of books and board games looking for something to do, leaving the others were spaced out around the kitchen.

Carol was going through the pantry looking for something to cook for dinner; figuring the least they could do was cook something nice for Scout, like they had done for Hershel. Although, she doubted that their host would come inside long enough to eat with them, but she could take it outside to Scout if she could locate her, that is. Once she’d gathered the makings for vegetable spaghetti, Carol headed back in to the kitchen to start dinner and mentioned her plans in passing to Tyrese and Sasha, who were at the table. “Although I’m not sure she’s going to be too grateful for the meal.” Carol added, not trying to sound too judgmental, but failing altogether.

“Give her time, Carol. It can’t be easy to give up her home for strangers. Who knows how long she’s been here alone.” Tyrese pointed out, with a nod from his sister. “We’ve got to remember that and just let her come around on her own. Hopefully she will.”

Carol nodded in agreement, “You’re right. I know it can’t be easy for her, but getting to know us would make this easier for everyone involved. Hiding outside is just going to keep a barrier between us and her.”

Michonne came in to the kitchen at that point, looking more than a little out of character wearing a pink flowery shirt she’d found hanging in the closet of the bedroom she was sharing with Carol. “She seems to be getting along with Daryl.” She said with a laugh. While Daryl was part of their family, there was no denying that he was a tough cookie to crack. Plus, since Beth's death he had been even more antisocial with the family; always there, but always lingering around the edge of their group. “She at least gave him a cigarette and is letting him near her; if you can count sitting on the ground beneath her.” Michonne went on to point out that Scout appeared to be staying the night outside in the tree house instead of indoors; and wondered if that was because they were in her home or if that’s where she slept no matter what.  
“Well then, Daryl can invite her to dinner.” Carol said pointedly and went back to work.

A little while later dinner was ready and sure enough, their host was nowhere in sight. Daryl, however, had finally made his way in to the house and was headed to take a shower when Carol called out to him to take Scout some dinner. “Take it your damn self. I ain’t poking my head up in there.”

From the living room, Rick heard the discussion…or rather, mild argument about who was going to take out the food. Apparently, after Daryl’s comment there was some worry that Scout just might take off a head if they poked it in to yet another area of her life. Sitting Judith on the floor to play with the blocks Carl had brought down for her, Rick stepped in and took the bowl from Carol. “I’ll take it.”

Climbing up a tree with one hand was tricky business, but somehow Rick managed to do it; albeit very ungracefully. Scout was still sitting outside, so Rick sat the bowl down on the porch like area between them. “Carol made dinner and thought you might like some.”

Scout was in deed hungry, but hadn’t wanted to go inside to find anything to eat. She was thankful for the bowl of food, but also had to bite back a sarcastic comment along the lines of thank you for making dinner out of my own food and bringing it to me. In the end, the etiquette classes her mother had forced upon her during her preteen years won out and she graciously took the food and politely said thank you. “Everyone settled in alright?”

“Yes, thank you. I know we keep saying that, but really, there’s no way to say just how thankful we are.” Rick took a seat at the top of the rope ladder, not fully barging in on yet another area of her life. “We’ve lost so many of our group and I am not sure we could’ve made it another winter on our own.”

“We’ve all lost people.” Scout replied solemnly. “How long have you guys been out there?”

“Basically since the beginning. We’ve been lucky enough to find sanctuary here and there, but mostly we’ve been in the woods. It’s not the best place to raise a family, that’s for sure.” Rick truly wondered if they’d have made it another season on foot, living in tents and surviving on the meager food they scavenged in various ghost towns and what Daryl could kill. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been out here alone?”

“Long enough.” Scout replied cryptically as she took a tentative bite of noodles; happy to find that it was pretty darn tasty. She wasn’t one to open up immediately with people she chose to befriend on her own, much less with a stranger that had all but forced his way in to her home. However, if she was going to live next to, or with, these people for the foreseeable future, she needed to be a bit more personable. “I’m not sure how long it’s been altogether, but it’s been a long time. Maybe seven months.”

“That’s got to be rough. While we haven’t always been able to find food or shelter, we’ve at least been lucky enough to have one another.” Rick watched as she all but inhaled the bowl of spaghetti and wondered how long it had been since she’d had someone cook for her. When Scout was finished, he took the bowl from her and said thanks once again. “I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Scout nodded and mumbled good night as he retreated back in to the house, then crawled in to the tree house for the night. Inside there was the mattress, a small table and chair, a couple of lanterns, an ammo box, her quiver of arrows and a selection of firearms and knives. However, her most prized possession was a framed picture of her with her family before disaster had struck. She briefly wondered if their group had any pictures of their families and it made her sad to think that they might not. Her family might be gone, but at least she had something other than memories to remind her of them.

She kicked off her boots and wiggled out of her jeans to put on a pair of shorts, because sleeping in jeans was just plain uncomfortable to her. Scout propped her bow up by the door and laid what was her former duty pistol, a Glock .22 semi-automatic .40 caliber handgun, beside her and turned off the lantern before flopping ungracefully on to the bedding.

Her dreams took her to the darkest place in her mind…the day of the outbreak.

Scout was called in to work early that day to assist the handful of officers already on duty in their small town. Apparently calls had been coming in to dispatch and going out over the radio faster than officers could answer them, and it was now all hands on duty. Scout dressed quickly and loaded up her car with extra items she might need during the long shift; adding in her AR-15 rifle along with her standard Mossberg 590 A1 tactical shotgun, extra ammo for both, her rifle plates in case her level 3 Kevlar vest wasn’t enough, a box of power bars and few jugs of water. One could never be too prepared. It was her family’s motto after all.

Chaos had descended on their small town and no one could tell her what type or why. All Dispatch said was to come in early per the Chief, and that things were getting out of control in town, but no one could answer the question as to what was going on. It was after her first call when she realized that no one could have prepared for this and that no one could answer why it was happening. Her first call was to respond to the hospital to assist the officers on scene with getting things under control.Thinking maybe it was a fight or some people trying to riot, Scout pulled on her rifle plates and slung her rifle across her back before heading inside the darkened medical center.

“What the hell?” She muttered upon entry, the place looked eerily like a ghost town; doors ajar, paper scattered across the floors, trays knocked over and their contents spilled out all over the place. Odd to say the least. Scout tried the other officers on the radio with no response; which meant she had to locate them on her own. Luckily, she knew the small medical center pretty well since her father was the local pediatrician and she’d ridden along with him to work on many occasions.

The first corridor had been completely empty and in a state of disarray that reminded her of something out of the movies. “Curiouser and curiouser,” she muttered the line from her favorite Disney cartoon under her breath, as she moved on to the next corridor where she ended up meeting her worst nightmare.

The bare asses of two patients were faced towards her; their gowns gaping open to no longer cover their hind quarters. Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around what they were doing at first, hunkered down, leaning over something. Finally she realized what she was looking at. They were leaned over a person, the white coat and dress pants sticking out from beneath them letting her know it was someone who worked there and not a patient, and the floor around them was coated in blood. Scout raised her duty pistol and pointed it in their direction while shouting at them to stop. “I said stop! Show me your hands!” She shouted at them. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

They turned towards her, their glazed over eyes staring at her with a feral gleam. Blood poured from their mouth, spilling on to the sea foam green gowns and covering their hands. Her stomach churned and threatened to bring up the bacon cheeseburger she’d eaten for lunch.

“What the fuck?” Scout muttered in disbelief. She could now clearly see that they’d torn chunks out of the torso of the person on the floor. For a brief moment she couldn’t move, disbelief taking her over. She’d seen some pretty twisted stuff on patrol, but this took the cake by far. Scout was brought out of her stupor when the patients stood up and started for her; slipping in the sticky pool of blood and causing the gore to smear across the floor gruesomely as the stumbled towards her. Gun pointed straight at them, she gave another verbal warning to stop and put their hands up, to no avail. The patient on the right, who looked disturbingly like her seventh grade teacher, lunged towards her quickly. Instinct set on high, Scout pulled the trigger and watched as what the left side of Mrs. Grantland’s head explode. Scout watched with wide eyed fear as she fell unceremoniously to the floor with a thud, but there was no time to do anything else because the second blood and gore covered patient reached out towards her. Without even bothering to tell him to stop, Scout planted another well placed bullet in to the patients skull.

Rushing towards the end of the hallway, Scout slipped around ungracefully in the goopy mess of blood and chunks of tissue before sinking down to her knees beside the person on the floor. Although the person laying there would’ve been unrecognizable to most people, the man missing half his face and the rest of the body covered in blood, but Scout knew and her eyes filled with tears as she sank fully to the floor. She knew it was her father without even checking the name tag. It’s amazing she could tell with only half a face, but she could. Scout put her pistol on the floor, scooted closer and bent over to cradle his head in her lap as she sobbed; paying no mind to the sticky, wet blood that was soaking in to her uniform pants. She had no idea how long she sat like that, the rest of the world had blurred away thanks to her pain. Scout was a Daddy’s girl, always had been and always would be.

What had happened here that would cause her to lose the most important man in her life?

As she rocked with his head in her lap, her head bent over as she wept openly, Scout never noticed the slight movement from her father’s body. It wasn’t until his hand ended up tangled in her hair and he started gurgling that brought her to attention. At first she thought that maybe she’d misjudged the situation and that he wasn’t dead, but hurt severely.

“Daddy? Oh my god, Daddy you’re alive!” She cried out joyfully. She tried to get his hand out of her hair so she could try to find help, but that only caused him to tug and tear at her hair and face. Guttural growls tore from his throat as he snapped his mouth viciously towards her face. It was then that she saw the same glazed over eyes as the patients that had attacked her. “Daddy, no.” Scout muttered. She had no idea what was going on, what was causing this madness, but she was fairly certain that her father was no longer occupying the body that was trying to attack her.

Scout wiggled out from beneath her father’s body and crab crawled backwards until she hit the wall. It was then she realized that her duty pistol was laying on the floor where she had been sitting by her father. Rookie mistake numero uno, never let go of your weapon. And, due to her position, her rifle was pressed between her and the wall making it difficult to get her hands on it without turning her back to her attacker. Thankfully she carried a backup pistol on her ankle and she quickly pulled her pants leg up to retrieve it; frantically fumbling with the strap on the Velcro holster as her father pulled his mangled body to unsteady feet and lurched towards her.

“Daddy, stop it. Please don’t make me shoot you.” Scout wept, pistol now in her shaking hands and pointed towards him, as she pleaded for her father to stop. Tears fell from her eyes and snot ran from her nose as she blubbered, her Ruger LCP was pointed squarely at her father’s forehead as she begged for him to quit. Unable to look at his ravaged body and face, Scout squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger. There was no way she could watch as she shot him. The heavy thud of a body hitting the floor sent her deeper into a fit of despair. Scout pulled her legs up and buried her face against her knees as she cried her heart out.

Back in present time, Scout awakened with a scream in her throat and tears running down her face. It had been a long time since she had dreamed about her father, but time had not made it any easier to deal with.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl woke just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and, forgetting where he was for a moment, damn near rolled out of the hammock on the front porch. Steadying the surprisingly comfortable bed he had chosen over sleeping on the couch, he set one foot on the porch and then the other, before crawling out of the rope bed. Always the earliest riser, he fully expected to be the first one up and promptly positioned himself so that he could piss off the side of the front porch instead of going inside to use the restroom, or at least walking in to the woods a few steps like anyone with a decent damned upbringing would do. One hand on his dick and the other propped against the column, he relieved himself without realizing that there was someone else who had a tendency to rise early, too.

“Nice. I take it manners were never a big hit with you.” Scout said dryly as she walked up on to the front porch. After waking up before the sun had even had a chance to wake up, much less make an appearance, she’d burned off stress with a several mile run and had returned just in time to see Daryl unzip.

“Shit!” Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin with surprise. He gave a quick shake and tucked himself back in to his pants before turning around. “Damn woman, you need a bell or something. Ain’t never had anyone sneak up on me like you do.” He rubbed his palms against the material on his thighs, for what reason he didn’t know…It’s not like he’d pissed on them or anything. “Ain’t used to having anyone else up this early either. Sorry about…well, pissing in front of you.”

“I’m no shrinking violet, your dick didn’t bother me.” Scout replied with an amused smile. In her line of work you either had to act like one of the guys or spend a great deal of time with your panties in a twist. Police officers were some of the filthiest mouthed, dirty minded people she’d ever been around and to be honest, she was one of the worst. “I do, however, care that you just took a leak on my Gerber daisies; which I’ve worked hard to keep alive.” She was pleased that he had the decency to look at least a little remorseful for pissing on her favorite pink daisies.

“Well, I’m sorry anyway.” Daryl took notice of that Scout was liberally soaked with sweat. “You been running? What the hell, I ain’t seen no walkers in these woods.”

Scout laughed at the disbelief on his face and she admitted that the laughter felt nice. “Actually, I went for a run. The end of the world is no excuse for laziness, you know.” Although, she had to admit that one look at his sculpted arms meant he clearly wasn’t slacking off. And, how had she not noticed just how nicely shaped his biceps were? Realizing he was still talking to her, Scout blushed profusely and was thankful the sun wasn’t high enough for him to see her embarrassment, but managed to catch the tail end of his question. “You want me to go hunting with you? Why?” She was shocked, to say the least. Although she hadn’t been able to monitor all of their comings and goings when they were still in the woods, Scout had never once witnessed anyone else going hunting with Daryl.

“Well, yeah,” Daryl shrugged, “Why not? You seem to know what you’re doing out there. With two of us we can catch some big game; quit wasting time on what amounts to fucking wood rats.” He was a little shocked himself that’d he had invited Scout to go along with him, as he preferred to be alone on his hunts. Mostly, because the rest of the group had a tendency to sound like a herd of buffalo in a china shop when walking through the woods. But, to be honest, it might be nice to have someone else that knew what they were doing out there with him. Surely they could either take down a doe or at least double what he normally brought in.

“Um, sure. Ok. Makes sense. I mean, I know the area better.” So much for keeping her distance and not getting close to these people. “Let me get dressed. Be right back.” Scout disappeared in to the partially darkened house, not bothering with lighting any candles or lanterns to illuminate the way, and headed to her bedroom. Reaching beneath the neck of her t-shirt, Scout pulled out the key that dangled around her neck on a leather cord, and unlocked the master bedroom door. Having people in her house had not caused her to start locking her bedroom door, it was something she’d done since her brother passed. In fact, on inside the bedroom the door there were another three locks. Overly precautious? Yes. Necessary? Most likely so.

Once inside the bedroom, she locked at least the doorknob and grabbed appropriate hunting clothes from the closet before taking a shower that she hadn’t intended on taking; even taking the time to hastily hit the high spots with a razor. Why shower off sweat when you’re just going to go in to the woods in the heat and sweat some more? And, why on earth was she shaving to go hunt? It’s not like he was going to be checking out how smooth she was. Geez. Scout was fairly certain the answer to those questions had something to do with the guy waiting for her on the front porch; and she was both intrigued by the thought of Daryl, and annoyed with it. The last thing she needed to do was get accustomed to him, and the rest of the group, being part of her daily life. Doing so would just make things more difficult when they left, that much was certain.

About fifteen minutes later, Daryl was sitting on the steps of the porch when a bottle of water appeared in front of his face; with a granola bar following shortly behind. He looked at the hardened lump of oatmeal and fruit in his hand with an expression of pure disdain. ‘Chick food’, he thought to himself. “Hmmpff…thanks,” Daryl grunted as he examined the bar closer.

  
“Please, by all means, don’t get too excited.” Scout replied with a cocked eyebrow. The bars weren’t horrible. Sure, they weren’t the best thing in the world, but they provided nutrition and energy; which they needed if they were going to spend part of the day hunting. She usually made a batch or two every couple of weeks out of supplies around the house. This week’s concoction consisted of oatmeal, chia seeds, honey, protein powder, and dried strawberries. “Figured you hadn’t eaten anything yet and it was the easiest thing to grab. They’re not that bad, stop looking at it like I handed you a pile of dog shit.” She polished off the last bite of her own and went to grab her bow and quiver of arrows from the tree house.

Daryl had to admit he was a little more than surprised that they worked so well together in the woods. Fluid, efficient, deadly. Those words described their morning; as well as efficiently described Scout’s hunting style. Neither voice contact nor explanations were needed, barely speaking more than ten words and relying mainly on hand signals while they were out. Time passed quickly, as it tends to do when one is having a good time; which hadn’t happened for either of them in a while. Belts heavy with some squirrel, chipmunks, and even a beaver, they continued on in their quest for the previously discussed bigger game. While Daryl had been thinking more along the lines of a doe or even a buck, he hadn’t seen either of them during their hunt. He was beginning to think they were only going to bring home the usual woodland creatures for dinner when he saw Scout pull up short off to his right and use her fingers to point towards her eyes and then out in front of them; signaling towards a flock of turkeys, maybe a hundred yards out. On her signal, the crept forward silently and paused once they were in shooting distance, bows ready they used eye contact alone to take out two turkeys before the rest of the flock knew what was going on.

The group was going to be eating well tonight.

They continued hunting together every morning for almost two weeks. Never really making plans to do so, but somehow always ending up at the same place each morning before sunrise. Daryl didn’t think they’d had more than half an hour’s conversation since they’d met, but that didn’t matter to him. He preferred the quiet anyway.

Each night, however, was a different story. Chaos disrupted their silent routine. There was no other way to describe a houseful of people talking over one another while crammed in to somewhat tight living quarters. Sure, Scout’s house was big enough for the normal sized family, but cramming this many into one house was absurd, bordering on insane; definitely not something anyone would want to do under normal conditions in the world. It was chaotic, but not in the way their lives had been prior to finding Scout. And tonight was no different; except tonight was the first night Scout had finally relented, giving in to Rick’s badgering, and joined them for dinner; instead of taking food with her as she retreated in to her perch high in the canopy of leaves.

He watched her across the dining room table; long enough to seat them all and hand built by Scout’s father years ago. Daryl couldn’t imagine anyone else looking as uncomfortable as Scout did, but then again, most people felt that way about him. He was intrigued by how she ate like it was her last meal and wondered if she’d always done that or if it was a result of the world as it was now. “You always eat like that?” Came out of his mouth before he could stop it, or at least make it sound less rude.

Scout stopped eating, embarrassed enough to drop the turkey leg she had just taken a huge bite out of. Sure, she ate a lot and quickly. Always had, to be honest, but there was more than enough to go around and hey, she helped put that food on to the table. Although, it wasn’t so much that her eating habits had been brought to light, it was that the entire table was now staring at her…and her mouth was beyond full. Thankfully, Rick came to her rescue.

“Back when I was working, we always had to eat quickly to make sure the food was still hot or dispatch didn’t give us a call in the middle of the meal.” Rick rubbed his hand over his beard, appearing lost in a though for a moment before continuing, “That last day, the day I got shot on duty. Shane and I were eating in the car just before the call came in and had managed to get about half a hamburger eaten each. Best damn hamburgers, too. From that diner me, you and your Mom used to go to all the time, Carl. You remember that?” Rick paused, but not long enough for Carl to do much more than nod his head in agreement. “Man, those burgers…you’ve no idea…If I had known that was going to be my last hamburger, I’d have made sure to eat faster than normal.”

Scout wasn’t stunned to hear that Rick had been a sheriff’s deputy in his former life, as someone had mentioned it before now; not that Scout remembered who. She was, however, surprised to hear that he had been shot on duty, too. She was thankful that hers hadn’t been life threatening, just a through and through shot on the outside of her upper left thigh. A couple of stitches and various shots, plus a couple of weeks off duty, and she’d been back to it. Luckily, the guy that shot her while responding on a domestic dispute call hadn’t been as good of shot as she was, otherwise the end results may have been turned around.

Since Rick had steered the conversation away from Scout’s lack of table manners, the rest of the group piped in with what they’d had for their last “normal” meal. Carol’s had been country fried steak dinner that she had cooked for her family, Glenn’s was a microwave gas station burrito he’d snagged while out delivering pizzas, Maggie’s was beef stew, Michonne’s was Chinese food from her favorite restaurant, Tyrese and Sasha had been having pizza with family, and Carl vaguely recalled some type of meat with peas; which he didn’t want to eat. Every last meal was the type of meal you expected, except Daryl’s, who mumbled something about not remembering and that it was likely beer since he woke up the morning of the outbreak face down in his front yard.

Scout muttered something about not remembering, but in reality she knew exactly where she had been and what she had been doing while the world was unknowingly falling apart. Damn close to where Daryl had been, expect she had been passed out in her living room floor after drinking too much tequila. Not that she drank that often before the outbreak, but that particular night she had responded to a call in reference to a suspicious vehicle parked in the alley by the library for a few hours. Unfortunately, she had been the closest unit to respond. Even more unfortunate, inside the vehicle she had located her so-called best friend and her so-called fiancé having sex in the backseat. Needless to say, the tequila had been necessary.

To this day, Scout had no clue if either one of them had survived the breakout. And, if Scout was being truly honest, she didn’t really care much if they did or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who gave kudos and left reviews. You know we writers feed on your comments. :) This story is now officially complete and I will be on a regular posting schedule of Sunday and Tuesday nights. Thanks again!


	6. Chapter 6

The next couple of weeks passed fairly quickly, bringing with it the first colder days of an approaching change in season. The green leaves of summer no longer existed, having lost their fight and given into fall; their colors bursting with vibrant hues of orange and reds. Their morning hunt went by with ease, lacking in conversation, but nothing out of the ordinary for them as of late. That is, until the rain came.And, of course, the bottom literally fell out of the sky when Scout and Daryl were easily two miles away from the house, deep in the woods. By the time they trudged their way through the forest back to the house, the rain had fallen so fast and so hard that their boots sank in the muddy trail and made the whole trek twice as long as it really was. Soaked to the bone, they deposited their meager kill onto the back porch and kicked off their muddy boots before entering the house. Daryl immediately passed through this kitchen with barely a nod of acknowledgment to anyone else; heading straight upstairs to presumably take a shower, or at least clean up some.

Inside the kitchen, Carol was digging through the cabinets looking for something to make for either a late lunch or an early dinner. Maggie was chopping vegetables they’d picked from the garden yesterday afternoon, while Glenn sat at the kitchen table flipping through an old magazine. Carl and Judith were playing in the den, having located several more age appropriate toys for the baby up in the attic. Tyrese passed through the kitchen and offered to clean what they had brought back from their hunt.Scout graciously thanked Tyrese as he slipped by, his hulking frame nearly dwarfing her and she wasn’t exactly small at five foot nine. Scout had taken to referring as the “Gentle Giant” due to his hulking form and passive aggressive attitude, but only in her head, of course.The rest of the group was absent, presumably tucked away in their respective rooms.

Scout couldn’t exactly put her finger on what was wrong, but the only ones in the whole house that seemed to be in good spirits were the children. Maybe it was just the rain, but then again, since she slept outside away from them maybe something actually had happened. Scout decided the best thing to do for the moment was to just disappear and go clean up, because the tension in the kitchen was seriously thick enough to cut through with a knife.

Upstairs in the available bathroom, Daryl took his damn precious time changing out of the wet and muddy clothes. Hell, he wanted to avoid the rest of the house so much he even took a shower. His second this week! A damn miracle, really, if you considered how little he had showered over the past two years. He’d rolled out of bed that morning, still preferring to sleep outside on the hammock instead of in the house, in a shitty damn mood and had hoped he could slip away and spend the entire day in the woods. But, no, clearly Mother Fucking Nature had something else in mind.

Scrubbing away at the dirt that had collected under his nails, Daryl let his mind wander back to the previous nights after dinner drama fest. Scout had already performed her usual eat and run ritual since she hadn’t quit taken to eating every meal with them as of yet, which was something that he wished he had done last night instead of staying inside with his so-called family. Everything had been fine and dandy during dinner, it was only when Maggie sat down at the piano in the den and mention Beth’s name that Daryl’s mood had turned dark.

While Beth’s death had crushed them all emotionally, Daryl still felt that Maggie had little to no excuse to still be moping about. Hell, she hadn’t even asked about her sister even though she knew that Beth had escaped the prison with him! Not one fucking time did she even mention Beth’s name and it fucking infuriated Daryl.He had managed to hold his shit together, to bite his tongue, but that didn’t mean that the rest of the group hadn’t picked up on his anger. And, it didn’t mean that Maggie didn’t pick at the issue until his temper was pushed to the breaking point. The night ended up the two of them screaming at one another, hurling hurtful accusations back and forth until Rick and Glenn finally stepped in, pulled them away from one another and tried to diffuse the situation. Nothing was settled, of course, because in the end they were basically fighting over who loved Beth more and who had the right to still be mourning her death.

And was there ever anyway to determine either of those?

Daryl had never intended to have feelings for the younger Greene sister, having only seen her as another member of their group until after the prison was attacked. Their family had been attacked, hurt and split up in to multiple groups; most of them very unlikely pairings. Especially him and Beth. The aloof, sarcastic, and stoic redneck had been thrown in to a partnership with the soft spoken, tenderhearted, golden haired angel. It had been a strange combination in deed.  
And Daryl had never expected for it to lead to anything having to do with feelings at all. However, somehow, someway, Beth had made him believe that there were not only good people still left in the world, but that he was one of those people. There had been something between them, that was a given. But what that something was, they were never given a chance to find out. To this day, nearly a year later, his heart was still broken by the fact that he would never be able to see her again, never hear her sing again, and he would never be able figure out what his feelings were for her. Instead, she was taken from him and it was all his fault. He had lost her.

And, he couldn’t save her.

After drawing out her shower and change of clothes as long as she could, Scout quietly slipped out of the house and retreated to her perch in the trees. Sure, it might be a little damp around the edges thanks to the rain, but at least it lacked palpable tension. She never expected to find Daryl hiding out in there, too.

“Well, this is a first.” Scout commented, as Daryl had never graced her presence by joining her inside the tree house; always preferring to sit below or hang out on the porch instead. She stepped over his outstretched legs and took a seat on the mattress. “I know why I’m hiding out, but what’s your excuse?”

“Nuthin.” Daryl mumbled. He didn’t know why he had chosen to hide out in the tree house. It’s not like he could claim he wanted to be alone, when he knew damn well that Scout would eventually end up there, too. He picked at the ripped knee in his pants; a pair that Scout had been generous enough to give to him and he’d been damn rude enough to go out and tear them open on the first day. Nothing was safe around him, nothing was sacred. He always fucked everything up. Gloomily, he asked in a gruffer than normal voice, “Got a smoke?”

“You gonna ask nicely Maybe say please?” Scout teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It didn’t take a scientist to realize something was wrong with him. Daryl had been less talkative than normal when they’d went out hunting, as if that was even possible. Now, his expression was dark and moody, downright surly. When he glared at her for even suggesting he be polite, Scout pulled a cigarette out for herself before tossing him the rest of the pack. “You look like someone just kicked your dog.”

“Never had a damn dog.” Daryl muttered with a cigarette between his lips as he lit the end. “Just something else to take care of.” He avoided making eye contact with Scout and continued to pick at the loose string on his pants. He could feel her eyes on him and figured she was going to needle him until she made him talk about his stupid feelings, like most women would do. Instead, he was once again thrown off guard when she opened the cabinet door on what was serving as her end table and pulled out a fifth of whiskey; damn near full with only the neck was missing amber fluid. Daryl had never been able to truly figure out a woman, not that he’d ever really tried, but he doubted he’d ever understand this woman.

“What?” Scout asked with a shrug when Daryl looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “You look like you could use a drink. You do drink, right?” She opened the bottle, which was basically full minus the few drinks she’d taken when she couldn’t sleep the other night, and handed it to him. “I assume you’re ok without a glass?”

Daryl didn’t answer what was clearly a rhetorical question, instead he took the bottle and turned it up; chugging for a few seconds before stopping and holding the bottle out towards Scout. “Ain’t gonna make me drink alone, are you?”

“That’d be downright rude.” Scout retorted, accepting the bottle back from him. She watched curiously as he crawled across the room and flopped down on the mattress beside where she was sitting.

They sat like that long past dark had fallen, completely engulfed in silence as they passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty; the flickering flame of a solitary candle dancing across the wooden walls.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun was shining high in the sky by the time Scout woke up the next day. Ridiculously bright rays of sunshine blared through the window to land directly on her face. Groaning, she rolled over and came in contact with something hard, kind of bristly; something definitely not her pillow. Peeking open one eye, she studied the object for a moment, confused. Then she realized what it was, and what she was laying on.  
  
 _Daryl!_  
  
His chest, thankfully clothed, served as a pillow substitute and the prickly feeling against her forehead was the scruff on his chin. Scout died a little bit inside before she made the realization that she, too, was still in possession of all of her clothes. Mentally sighing in relief, she surveyed the rest of the room. Boots had been kicked off and tossed over by the door at some point. The candle had obviously long since burned out. Daryl was sprawled out on the mattress and while her rear was on the floor and her torso was leaned over him and her head resting on his chest; tucked just below his neck. She spied the evil culprit of the situation, the now very empty bottle of Jack, resting on its side on the floor next to them.  
  
‘ _If you’re so uncomfortable why are you still laying here_?’ Scout thought to herself. She really didn’t want to explore the reasons behind why she wasn’t as uncomfortable as she should be and why she was still laying there, delaying the inevitable awkward morning after greeting. Scout chewed her lip nervously, a habit that her mother had tried to dispel on more than one occasion, and pondered the situation a little further. She had went over her memory of the night up to when Daryl had slumped down beside her, but the rest of the evening was a blur. They hadn’t even had a real conversation, that she could remember anyway, and how weird was that? Who just laid around and drank together without talking? It was all very confusing to her. Scout admitted to herself that she found him intriguing, and yes, attractive. ‘ _Very attractive_ ,’ she thought; losing herself in a moment of obsession over his well-shaped bicep. She’d always been a sucker for guys with nice arms. In fact, she kind of wanted to reach out and touch him, to see how it felt, when Daryl groaned in his sleep and flung the arm in question over her.  
  
The world spun on its axis when Daryl rolled over, trying to get away from the sun that was shining through a nearby window. His head throbbed, his mouth was drier than the proverbial desert, and he had to piss like a fucking racehorse. None of these problems were urgent enough to find a solution, but his eyes popped open when he realized the muffled sounds he thought were outside were actually coming from Scout; whom he had in a headlock against his chest.  
  
Eyes wide open now, Daryl sprang up from the mattress quickly; managing to not only hit his head on the ceiling, but snag Scout’s hair in his hands while doing so. Muttering a quick apology, he hastily put on his boots while avoiding eye contact; which seemed to be the best way to handle such an awkward situation. Sure, Daryl had had his fair share of one night stands in his past, but he had never actually spent the night with the women; always choosing to sneak out once they’d fallen asleep or when they were in the shower. He’d most certainly never done something like  _not_  have sex with a woman and just snuggle in bed! Hell, the closest he’d come to that was spending the night with Beth and they certainly hadn’t gotten this close. Nope, this was definitely uncharted waters for Daryl Dixon. Once he had on both boots, he was halfway out the door before he made eye contact with Scout, who looked just as confused and uncomfortable as he felt.  
  
“I, um…I should go.” Daryl managed to get out; his voice gruffer than normal thanks to the copious amount of cigarettes he’d smoked the night before. He shoved his hands through his messy hair and fumbled around with what else to say. Failing to come up with anything else, Daryl broke eye contact and scurried down the rope ladder.  
  
His head pounded furiously and gave no indication that it was going to lessen any time soon. Years ago that much whiskey would have been just enough alcohol to loosen him up for a night of hard drinking and even harder action, but nowadays, Daryl was damn near a pussy when it came to drinking. Once inside, he headed straight to the kitchen and stuck his head in the sink to drink from the spout; gulping water so fast that he thought he might throw up in the basin. Once he’d drank his fill, Daryl rested his weary head on his arms and let the cool water wash over his aching head for a bit.  
  
When he was sufficiently water logged, Daryl turned off the water and pushed his wet hair back from his face. Intending on locating something to eat, likely one of those chick food granola bars he’d grown accustomed to each morning. However, he inwardly groaned when he was faced with a table full of people. “Um, morning.”  
  
“Damn near afternoon,” Michonne said with a knowing smile. She had been on the porch trying to avoid the tension inside the house last night when Daryl had stormed out in a huff and, after standing in the yard for a moment like he was considering his options, had climbed up in to the tree house. She had also been on the porch when Scout had done the same thing a few minutes later; and Michonne was also fairly certain that neither one of them had exited the treehouse last night, either.  
  
“You look like hell! And now we know why.” Rick interjected with a laugh, as he stood up and motioned for Daryl to take his seat. “You smell like a brewery.”  
  
“We thought you had went hunting, but your bow was still in the living room.” Carol pointed out as she shucked peas for lunch. “Where did you disappear to last night? We were worried.” More like, Carol was worried. Sure, she knew that he could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t worry about him from time to time. She loved him, after all. There had been a time long ago when she’d had a notion that there might be something more to her and Daryl’s relationship, but after the events of the past year she knew that theirs was more a deep friendship than anything else. But, that didn’t mean she was ready to see him have feelings for another woman. Hearing about Beth had been hard enough on her.  
  
Groaning, Daryl rested his head in his hands and said, “Scout had whiskey. May have drank too damn much.”  
  
“Hmm, seems she has an unending supply of cigarettes and now has liquor, too. Wonder what else she’s keeping from us?” Carol said a little too disapprovingly. She liked Scout although she didn’t know a lot about her, but she didn’t fully trust her, of course.  
  
“Guess that’s in her damn right. We’ve taken everything over else she has.” Daryl retorted, a little rougher than he intended to. Something in Carol’s behavior lately had rubbed him the wrong damn way and that disapproving tone in her voice annoyed him more than usual. Although, to be fair, everyone had been rubbing him the wrong damn way as of late. Well, except Scout. He glared at Carol and all but challenged her to say something else. When she didn’t, merely went back to shucking peas without another word, Daryl pushed back his chair and stood up. He looked at the three members of the group he was closest to and somehow couldn’t find anything to say to them. Giving up on food, he headed out the back door and let the screen door slam against the frame; signaling his departure.  
  
Fully intending to go hunting, to see if he could at least salvage the later part of the day, Daryl realized once he got outside that he had left his crossbow inside yet again. Not wanting to go back inside the house, he trudged off in to the woods anyway; armed only with his hunting knife. There would be no fresh kill brought back tonight, but at least he could protect himself if need be. The most important thing is that he needed to be alone for a while; even if the sky looked like it was ready to start raining again.  
  
By the time Scout had mustered up the energy, and maybe the nerve, to emerge from the treehouse and go inside the house, Daryl was nowhere to be found. She did find, however, a table full of people in the dining room; clearly having just sat down to eat. And, thankfully, every single one of them noticed her standing in the hallway awkwardly, even the baby. She was fairly certain she looked like a wreck, likely smelled like a distillery, and needed to excuse herself to the bathroom to rectify the situation. However, she couldn’t find the words to decline the invitation to lunch, especially when Carl scooted the seat out next to him for her to sit in. It was the nicest thing any guy had done for her in a long time, even if he was just a teenager and not anyone she had any interest in.  
  
“Lunch? It’s that late?” Scout asked, shocked when she saw that the food on her plate was not of the breakfast variety. Granted, she and Daryl were usually long gone by the time breakfast was served, but she knew that it was cooked every day even if they weren’t there to eat it. “I didn’t realized we…um,  _I_  had slept so late. I’m sorry.”  
  
“No apology needed. I’m sure you were just tired. “Rick managed to say with a straight face, having not missed Scout’s slip of the tongue. Although, he already knew that she and Daryl had spent the night together since Michonne had filled him in that morning. “There’s really not much to be done around here until the rain stops for good. We got what could be done finished already.”  
  
“I should’ve at least been out there trying to hunt before the rain starts up again.” Scout couldn’t help but notice that Daryl’s bow was leaning against the couch in the living room and she wondered where he was. “I’ll go out after lunch if it’s not raining by then.”  
  
After lunch, Scout helped Maggie clear the dishes off the table while Rick went to put Judith down for a nap and the others retreated to the living room in search of something to occupy the time since the rain, in fact, had started back up again. Carl had brought down several board games and a stack of books from the racks in the sleeping area of the attic, so maybe that would help alleviate the boredom during the wet weather.  
  
In the kitchen, Scout dried dishes as Maggie washed them. It was the first time the two had been in the same room alone and Maggie didn’t waste any time bringing up the events of the past couple nights. “I wanted to apologize for how things have been since the other night. Daryl and I, well, we’re having some issues and let things get out of hand. It shouldn’t have happened, but…well, it did, and I’m sorry.”  
  
“No need to apologize. I didn’t hear anything and wouldn’t have known anything had happened except Daryl was in a shit mood.” Scout shrugged her shoulder, “Still don’t know what’s going on. Daryl’s not much of a talker.”  
  
“That’s putting it mildly.” Maggie said with a warm smile as she passed Scout another plate to dry. “He and I, well, we’ve never been best buds, but I like to think we’re friends, although it doesn’t seem like we are lately.” Maggie paused for a moment, as if considering her words. She didn’t know if she should mention the cause of the discord or not, but thought that maybe Scout could help out if she and Daryl were as close as they seemed. “Has he mentioned anything about what happened before we came here?”  
  
“Nothing major. Just bits and pieces about where you guys have stayed and stuff.” Scout didn’t really know if she wanted Maggie to go on. Did they really need to start swapping personal stories and building bonds when they were just going to part ways in a few months? Of course, that wasn’t going to stop Maggie from unloading all the gory details on her.  
  
“Last year, our home got attacked. We were staying at the prison just outside of Atlanta. We lost a lot of people. My father included. Afterwards, we all got split up. I lost my sister and my husband. My group wandered around in the woods for what seemed like forever. Obviously, I found Glenn, but my baby sister…I never saw her again. Well, alive, that is. She got out of the prison and escaped with Daryl. He took care of her, but she got kidnapped one night when the place they were holed up in got overrun with walkers. By the time Daryl got outside to find her she was gone.” Maggie handed Scout the plate she’d been washing over and over again. “When our group came finally together as one again, and experienced some truly messed up stuff that I won’t even go in to…well, by the time Daryl found her…the plan to save her didn’t go as intended. She ended up getting shot and Daryl hasn’t forgiven himself for not saving her. It’s been a year. He won’t talk about it, won’t let anyone talk about her or what happened. I don’t know what to do to fix it.”  
  
Scout knew all too well how it felt to watch someone you love die in front of you. She had experienced it long before the outbreak when her little sister had been murdered and knew exactly how the weight of not being able to save the one you loved felt. Scout knew how well life went when you kept that bottled up until you were cold inside. It changed you. “I’m sorry about your sister. I’ve been there, my sister was killed years ago. But, I don’t know how to help you with Daryl…I know from experience that he’s going to either have to talk to someone or work it out on his own. No one can force that on him.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s what Rick said, too. I just, well, I want to talk about Beth. I miss her, and talking about her helps me.” Maggie handed Scout the last dish and let the sink drain as wiped away her tears and composed herself a bit. “Do you mind me asking what happened to your sister?”  
  
Scout wanted to say yes, she did mind, but ended up telling the horrible story anyway. “Her name was Jillian, but she preferred Jill. She was the baby, six years younger than me. And she was perfect. I mean,  _absolutely_  perfect. Beautiful, smart, talented, and everyone loved her. She died when she was only fourteen, way too early. My mom took the both of us to Atlanta for the weekend to buy her a dress for Homecoming. It was her very first date and mom wanted to do something special for her. We went out to eat and spent the whole day downtown shopping. We were outside the Peachtree Mall when it happened. I had gone to get the car and come back to pick them up since it was raining, but I was too late to do anything to help them. Not that I could’ve done much with my pepper spray, but I’d have tried.” Scout folded up the towel she’d been using to dry the dishes and laid it over the lip of the sink. With no chores to keep her busy, she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table; and began her story again once Maggie had sat down, too. “The guy was already gone by the time I got back around to the entrance. My mom was just sitting there beside her with the rain pouring down on both of them. Mom was sobbing and screaming at the same time and trying to put Jilly’s head back together. Some guy had shot her point blank, even after my mom had given him her purse. They never caught the guy.” Scout fidgeted with her hands and continued, “It took me a long time before I could talk to anyone about it. Just be patient with Daryl.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister. That’s horrible.” Maggie sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Daryl’s family. I’ll give him all the time he needs, I just can’t promise we won’t fight a lot before then.”  
  
“Sometimes the screaming helps, to be honest. Didn’t you want to scream at someone…anyone…after your Dad and Beth were killed? Sometimes you just need catharsis.” Scout watched as Maggie’s eyes filled with tears and she quickly tried to blink them away. “It’s ok to cry, too.”  
  
“Thank you,” Maggie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Talking helps, but we haven’t done much of that. Mostly everyone just tip toes around me and Daryl like they’re afraid we’ll break or well, bite their heads off. So, thank you for this.”  
  
“It’s ok, I’m eight credit hours short of a psych degree, so I guess I’m as close to a shrink as we’ve got around here.” Scout replied with a straight face before they both laughed. It felt good to talk to another woman; and it felt especially good to laugh.  
  
“So, you and Daryl? What’s up with that?” Maggie asked with a mischievous grin. “We all know where he slept last night.”  
  
“Slept being the operative word. There is nothing between the two of us, that’s for sure. Um, he’s not involved with anyone else is he? ” Scout flushed profusely, which didn’t lend any credit to her affirmation that nothing had happened between them; not that she could say with a hundred percent assurance that she wouldn’t have been perfectly ok had something transpired.  
  
“As far as I know, Daryl is as single as single can be.” Maggie definitely noticed the blush across Scout’s cheeks and wondered if maybe she wanted there to be something with Daryl. Not that it would be a bad thing, Daryl having someone to talk to, to distract him from Beth. Maggie didn’t know exactly what kind of relationship he’d had with her little sister and honestly didn’t want to know. But, she knew he cared enough about Beth to let her death eat him up inside and that was enough to make Maggie want to help him find some type of solace.  
  
“Oh, ok. Good. I didn’t want to cause any problems…not that there’s anything going on that would cause problems or anything.” Scout pushed back her chair and excused herself, “Since this rain doesn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon, I guess hunting is out. I’m going to go shower.”  
  
“It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon, huh? I expect us to all go crazy with cabin fever shortly.” Maggie sighed as she glanced out the window at the dreary, wet afternoon. “Thanks again for the talk.”  
  
Scout retreated in to her bedroom, where she took a quick shower and changed in to warm clothes. Judging by the cooler air in the house, it appeared winter might be coming earlier than usual this year. She grabbed a blanket off her father’s favorite chair and curled up on the bed, where she instantly fell asleep.  
  
Night had long since fallen by the time she woke up and wondered what time it actually was since she appeared to be the only one awake when she came out of her bedroom. Scout quietly made her way out of the house and darted across the wet front yard to her treehouse. Although fall was right around the corner and the nights were already growing colder, she wasn’t ready to move permanently in to the house just yet. Once inside her hideaway, she was saddened to see that Daryl wasn’t up there like last night…not that she really expected him to be. She hadn’t seen him in the living room, but it was dark in the house so maybe she missed him, and he wasn’t on the hammock either. Too awake to go back to sleep, Scout lit a lantern, crawled on to the mattress and grabbed a nearby book to kill time until sunrise.

### Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews and kudos. I hope everyone likes the new chapter. Also, just want to say that I am totally jealous of everyone who gets to watch the new episode tonight. Due to work different schedules, I have to wait until Friday to watch it with the husband. FRIDAY! Ugh, I may die.


	8. Chapter 8

Scout didn’t know how she managed to do it, but every day for a week Daryl was already gone before she crawled out of the treehouse in the morning. The first couple of days she chalked up to the residual awkwardness of waking up in one another’s arms, but she had honestly thought that would pass. He showed back up every afternoon with a hodgepodge of kills, wordlessly sat through dinner and had even taken to sleeping inside. At this point though, Scout was beginning to take offense to his avoidance of her.

Clearly she needed to confront him and find out what the hell she’d done wrong, but she certainly didn’t want to do that in front of everyone. Therefore, one night she went to bed at an absurd hour just so that she would hopefully wake up early enough to catch him in the woods. Dressed for colder weather in jeans, a tank top with a sweatshirt over it and a pair of lined hiking boots, Scout waited until Daryl emerged from the darkened house and disappeared in to the woods on the west side of the house. Once the shadows sucked him in, Scout all but jumped out of the tree and hot footed it after him.

About a mile in she made her presence known; which resulted in a grim face and a crossbow being pointed straight at her heart. “Either shoot me or don’t, but I’m tired of the silent treatment.”

Daryl honestly didn’t know what to do; the silent treatment usually worked with other women. Then he had to remind himself that Scout had yet to remind him of other women; except maybe one…as her current state of insistence reminded him of Beth; who had a way of sweetly badgering information out of him. Dropping his bow, Daryl turned away from her and sourly replied, “Don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit, Scout.” He didn’t have to see her face to know that what type of expression was on it. Sure, he’d been avoiding her, but she clearly didn’t get the hint. He didn’t want to be around her. And he certainly didn’t want to have feelings for her, damn it. He didn’t want anyone else to depend on him. He didn’t want to lose any one else that he cared for.

Waking up with her in his arms was clearly an unexpected outcome of their night of drinking. In all honesty, he’d sought out Scout because she was someone new, someone who didn’t look at him like he was going to crack at any moment, someone who didn’t walk on eggshells around him. And now, he’d gone and fucked that up by stupidly getting drunk. Now, the few times they saw one another he saw uncertainty and disappointment in her eyes and he hated himself for putting those emotions there. Daryl couldn’t deny that there was something between him and Scout, but what was between them was a question he didn’t think he could answer. His heart had been numb, shut off from emotion, for so long, he didn’t know if he was ready to open himself up and let her in. “Just go home.”

Scout was seething. It had been a long damn time since she was truly this infuriated with another person. She tossed her bow onto the ground, along with the quiver of arrows she’d never gotten around to putting on her back, and squared off at his retreating back. “No.” She flat out refused, “You either tell me what in the hell I did wrong or…” Or what? She was going to kick his ass? Not likely, but if that’s what it came to then she’d give it all she had.

“Or what? You gonna hit me?” Daryl spat back without bothering to turn around, passing right over the fact that Scout thought she’d done something wrong and letting her unsaid threat take the lead in the conversation. Anger was a feeling he was familiar with; anger fit him like a second skin, he was comfortable with his anger. Emotions like lust and love, those were uncharted waters for Daryl. He’d only experienced a taste of those feelings once before, only to have them viciously taken from him. “You ain’t gonna hit me, Scout. Just go home. I don’t want you here.”

Scout stood there. Feet rooted in place as she fought not to cry. Only wussy girls and little babies cry, she reminded herself of her brother’s favorite saying when she would cry when she was younger. She was pissed, but underneath that anger Scout was hurt. She’d gone and done the one thing she said she wouldn’t…couldn’t do. She let him get under her skin. Blinking back tears, Scout watched as he walked away from her; never looking back. Scout didn’t know what she had done to cause him to no longer want to be around her, but knew that at least part of it was because she wasn’t the person he longed for. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” Scout managed to say with a somewhat steady voice, “I’m sorry I’m not her.”

At her words, Daryl stopped in his tracks. How did she know about Beth? He certainly hadn’t told her anything about her, but someone else clearly had. Turning around to face her, he growled. “You don’t know shit about nothing. Fuck off, Scout. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know you lost someone you love. I know you’re mad at yourself for not saving her.” Scout’s heart sank as she looked in to his eyes and saw the anger and hate that lived there; marring the beautiful dark blue eyes.

“You don’t know shit about me and what I’ve been through.” Daryl replied bitterly.

Scout pushed away the sadness and focused on the anger instead, and screamed as he walked away from her. “Fine! Just leave. I don’t need you anyway! I can protect myself, dammit! I don’t need you to save me! Is that why you don’t want anything to do with me? I don’t need rescuing, so I’m not worth your time?”

Daryl turned back around, tossed his bow on to the ground and stalked towards Scout, who started backing away from. He stopped so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Their breaths mingled with one another as they stood in a moment of silence. Scout stood rigid, not knowing what to expect from Daryl. She started to take a step away when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, but was stopped when he reached out suddenly to grasp her neck tightly just below her hairline. She had but a moment to focus on how hot his hand was despite the colder weather, when he pulled her tightly against him and brought his lips hungrily to hers.

Scout gasped in surprise against his warm lips as slowly maneuvered them off the trail and pressed her against a nearby tree. He grasped her hair in his right hand tightly, as his left hand moved lower and slipped beneath her shirts to touch her; the rough texture of his hand against the tender flesh of her stomach causing her skin to tingle.

Scout moaned in satisfaction when Daryl roughly pushed her bra upwards and took her breast in his hand to pinch and roll the tender bud of her nipple between his fingers. That was the extent of tender for their embrace. His kisses became rougher, Scout tasted the barest hint of blood on her lip after he bit down before thrusting his tongue inside her mouth to mingle with her own. He stopped only long enough to pull her sweatshirt off, not bothering to take off the tank top or bra; which were already pushed up above her breasts. Scout’s mind swirled with emotion and need when he lowered his head and took one pert nipple in his hot mouth.

Scout relished the attention he lavished on her breasts, but couldn’t stand the thought of not touching him back. She pushed him back and ripped at his shirt, managing to tear off a few buttons in the process, before pulling it off of him completely. When Daryl pressed against her again, her skin tingled as his bare chest pressed against hers. He kissed her greedily; assaulting her lips, neck, chest, breasts. His lips were everywhere and Scout vibrated with desire, need, want. She wanted all of him.

She lowered her hands and tugged at his belt, feeling like a virgin with trembling hands; until she somehow managed to get the damned thing unlatched. Daryl pulled away from her again, the cold air hitting against her heated skin sent chills down her body. He looked at her hungrily, like he was about to devour her and that look alone caused her knees to buckle in anticipation.

Somehow she managed to clumsily get one boot and a leg of her jeans off. Daryl slid his hands below her waist, over the curve of her ass, and settled at the top of her thighs before picking her up, holding her against the tree as he pressed the evidence of his obvious desire against her heated center. They shared one brief, intense look before he pushed aside the scrap of cotton from her underwear she had yet to take off, and teasingly circled one finger around before slipping it inside. Scout damn near blacked out from that single, solitary touch. It had clearly been too long.

Daryl hungrily watched her, relishing in the expression of pure lust as he slipped his finger in and out of her tight, moist center. Eyes closed, mouth parted as she breathed heavily and moaned in desire, Daryl smiled wickedly at her whimper when he removed his fingers and he damn near came undone when she cried out as he slid his hardened length inside her.

Their coupling was fast, heated, and urgent. Scout’s had one hand tangled in his hair and the other hand tightly grasped a nearby branch for support as she moved in rhythm to Daryl. His hands grasped her tightly, painfully, at the waist. She knew he’d leave bruises and truly didn’t give a damn. Having him inside her, filling her, was the best feeling she had felt in such a long time. Thrust for thrust, they moved hurriedly against one another until Scout screamed out loudly as her body shivered in pleasure against his for a brief moment and one final thrust; before Daryl followed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoys the posts for today. Since this is a fairly short chapter, I will be posting Chapter 9 as well. Thanks for the reviews!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters posted today (Tuesday) make sure to read Chapter 8 first!

If they thought things were awkward between them before, then there was no word to describe how they were both feeling now. Scout had expected her confrontation to escalate to a fight maybe, an exchange of intense words…certainly not an exchange of body fluids to this extent. Their eyes met briefly as Daryl eased his grip on her so she could lower her to the ground to stand on shaky legs. Now that their heated embrace had ended, the cold air hit Scout’s exposed skin like a knife. As ladylike as one could be while partially dressed, half of her pants off, one boot on and her tank top and bra pushed up to her chin, Scout hobbled around and tried to make herself decent once again.

Daryl, on the other hand, was lucky enough to at least have his pants on, albeit undone, but his hair was more disheveled than normal. His shirt, however, appeared to be a total loss as half of the buttons were missing and somehow the sleeve had become torn. Turning away from Scout, he discretely tucked himself back in to his pants and fixed his shirt as best as he could. When he finished, Daryl heard Scout shuffling around behind him and turned to find her hoping about on foot still trying to get dressed. Ever the gentleman, sort of, Daryl leaned over and grabbed her sweatshirt from the ground, noticing that it was now covered in crumbled leaves and mud since it appeared they’d stepped on it at least a few times during their tryst. He shook it off as best he could and sheepishly held it out to her now that she had finally got her other boot back on.

“Um, yeah, we…we stepped on it, looks like.” Daryl managed to stammer out as Scout took the garment from him. He felt like shit. Well, not totally, it had been years since he’d had sex with anyone other than his right hand, but mentally he felt like a total shit. Where had that even come from? He’d fully intended to walk over to Scout and let her have the fight she’d clearly been itching to have with him. Instead, he’d stood there, scant inches from where she stared at him fury in her eyes, and couldn’t help but reach out and taste her. To not be angry and filled with hatred for himself, for the people that took Beth from him, for what had happened at the prison. He wanted to feel something...anything...other than what he had felt for the past few years. That need, that urgent desire to feel again, made it as though he had no control over what he was doing. And now, watching her get dressed and awkwardly avoid his watchful stare, he felt like utter shit for letting his dick make the decision. 

“Thanks.” Scout muttered as she took the filthy sweatshirt from Daryl. Glancing out of the corner of her eye as she leaned over to collect her bow and quiver, she watched as he chewed on his finger nail with an intense expression on his face. When he didn’t say anything else to her, Scout hooked the items around her shoulder and shuffled towards the house. “It’ll wash. Um, so…I’m going to go clean up. So…yeah.”

Daryl kicked at the tree that he’d just screwed Scout against and cursed under his breath. Sure, he’d fucked up a lot during his lifetime and for the most part, he was able to brush his mistakes under the rug and go about his life. But, then the end of the world had happened and somehow he’d become a better person through it all. Lifting his head, Daryl watched as she hightailed it back towards the house and wondered if he should go after her, or give her space. In the end, he took the easy way out and walked away from where she was going. 

Meanwhile, Scout slipped quietly inside the house, hanging her bow and quiver on the hook next to the back door, and tiptoed back to her bedroom. The upside to chasing Daryl down as the sun was starting to peek above the horizon was that the rest of the house wasn’t up and moving about just yet. The downside was going to be dealing with Daryl from here on out.

Once safely tucked inside her bedroom, Scout undressed and stepped in to a hot shower; instantly shrieking when the water hit what felt like scratches across her back. Quickly washing, she examined her back upon exiting the shower and sure enough there were scratches, small ones at least, marking her across the tattoo that covered her back. Scout vaguely recalled the biting force of the tree bark cutting in to her flesh as Daryl thrust in to her, but didn’t remember it hurting much at the time. Clearly her mind had been preoccupied. She also noticed half-moon marks and the red marks that were likely the beginning of bruises on her waist just above her hipbones. She thought that maybe she should apply some peroxide to some of the cuts on her back, but since she couldn’t reach them on her own and certainly wasn’t going to ask for help, Scout decided to just get dressed. As it was still very early in the morning, she crawled in bed with the intentions of taking a nap, but couldn’t stop thinking about how her morning hadn’t gone quite as she planned.

Although her mind had been busy going over the consequences of what had transpired between her and Daryl that morning, Scout must’ve fallen asleep after all. She had no idea how long she’d napped, but by the time she woke up the house was bustling with activity just outside the bedroom in the kitchen; hearing the telltale sounds of what was likely lunch being prepared in the kitchen. Stomach growling, Scout remembered she hadn’t eaten since last night and was famished. She crawled out of bed, pulled a sweater over her tank top, and tucked her jeans into fur lined hiking boots. She was dressed entirely too warm for the house, but planned on going hunting after she ate. 

What Scout encountered in the kitchen was definitely not what she expected, marking the second time in a few hours that she’d been surprised. As she turned the corner in to the filled to the brim kitchen, missing what appeared to only be Daryl and Judith, Scout came face to face with the dangerous end of Rick’s revolver. Stopping dead in her tracks, Scout’s eyes were wide open with fear as she managed to squeak out a few words. “What in the…Rick! What’re you doing?”

His expression was grim, laced with a deadly intensity as he stared down the barrel at Scout. “What’s behind the door?”

Scout was confused for a moment, the situation causing her brain not to function on all of its cylinders. She glanced around quickly and noticed that Rick wasn’t the only one with a weapon out, but only he and Carol had weapons pointed in her direction. Not that that made her feel any better. His words finally registered and Scout’s line of vision darted quickly to the pantry door. They’d found the secret basement door! “Rick, it’s not what you think, I promise.”

“You got walkers in there?” Carl asked from his spot next to Michonne on the other side of the kitchen table. Michonne chimed in and added, “Or their heads?”

Scout couldn’t help but notice he didn’t seem afraid of the idea of a basement full of walkers and found that odd. “Walkers? Why in the hell would I have walkers down there?” She was more than confused, but doubted anyone was going to take the time to explain things to her. Drawing on her experience as a police officer and dealing with unstable situations, she took a deep breath and continued in a calm voice. “It’s just personal stuff, Rick. Nothing important or dangerous to you guys, ok? Can you put the gun down, please?”

Rick stared at her intensely; sweat beaded on his brow. “I’m going to need to see what’s down there.” He cocked his head in the direction of the pantry, as if Scout didn’t know as to where exactly he was referring to. Just then, the slamming of the back door caught their attention and they both turned their heads to find that Daryl had returned home.

Daryl kicked the back door closed, his hands full with his bow and a clutch full of squirrels tied together on a string. “Didn’t get much. Think the furry shits are catching on to me.” He held his furry prize out to show the room and dropped them instantly when he saw Rick with his gun pointed at Scout. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but his brotherly bond with Rick overtook whatever fledgling bond he had with Scout. Trusting Rick, Daryl raised his crossbow and pointed it directly at Scout; trying not to let the disappointed expression on her face distract him. “The fuck's going on?”

“Carl found a hidden door in the pantry. It’s locked, we don’t know what’s down there.” Carol explained quickly, “Rick’s told Scout to open it, but she won’t. She’s hiding something down there. I told you she was hiding something else!”

Daryl recalled his words from before about it being ok if Scout hid things from them since they’d all but forced her to give them everything else she had in her life. He was now regretting those words as his mind flashed to a barn full of walkers; hidden away by someone they thought they could trust. Warily, Daryl looked at Scout and said, “Scout, open the fucking door.”

Scout felt her heart sink at his expression, the distrustful tone of his voice. Like she had done anything but help them. Why would she hide anything from them that would hurt them? But, it wasn’t like she and Daryl knew each other well enough for him to trust her. Hell, they’d hunted and fucked; obviously not the makings for a solid relationship based on trust and commitment. Tears stung in her eyes as she turned to go in to the pantry. With a shaking hand, she keyed in the eight digit combination and turned the handle to open the vault door when it beeped. Scout flicked on the stairwell light and took a deep breath before turning back to face Rick. “Have at it.” She informed him in a grim tone and a swipe of the arm.

Scout stepped out of the pantry and came face to face with Daryl, whose bow was still aimed at her. With fury in her eyes and an icy cold tone in her voice, she said, “I’d say fuck you, but it’s a little late for that.” 

Daryl didn’t know what to say. He could feel the rest of the group’s eyes boring in to him after Scout’s biting comment. Daryl lowered his bow as she moved past him. He stood stalwart and watched as she shoved past Tyrese to flee down the hallway; slamming the front door as she ran away. Looking back at Rick, he motioned with his bow and said, “Basement ain’t checking itself.”

Rick nodded and took point, descending down the stairs with his gun held high. Once at the bottom they were faced with another door, but this one was unlocked. Turning the knob, Rick swallowed nervously as he inched inside the darkened room and searched the wall for a light switch with his free hand. He was prepared for walkers or worse, not that he knew what could be worse than walkers, but what he saw when the room was awash in light hit him like a ton of bricks. Feeling like shit, he turned to face Daryl as he entered the room and put his revolver back in to his holster. “Wasn’t what I expected.”

“Hell, who’d expect this?” Daryl said as he lowered his bow; miraculously feeling like more of an asshole than he did this morning. “It’s a damn grocery store.”

“Yeah, and from the looks of it, she’s been using this for us.” Rick pointed out the pad of paper and pen at the end of one of the isles. He held it up for Daryl to see that Scout had been adding items to the list of what she’d used recently. “I doubt she’s eaten that much by herself.”

“Shit.” Daryl muttered under his breath as he took notice of what all she’d written down. From what he’d learned about Scout over the past month and a half he knew that she preferred to provide for herself by hunting and growing food in the garden. Even with her brother around the first year, he knew that the two of them wouldn’t have used this many grains, canned beans and especially cigarettes, since she had told him her brother hadn’t smoked. “I’m going after her.”

Rick nodded in agreement and scrubbed a hand over his beard. “One of us needs to.” He followed Daryl upstairs and shut the vault door behind them; a series of beeps let him know it was locked again. He watched as Daryl bolted out the front door before turning his attention back to the rest of his family so he could explain what they had found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shall breathlessly wait in anticipation of your thoughts....


	10. Chapter 10

Scout ran. She wanted to get as far away from those people as she possibly could. Miles were covered as she tore through the forest; chest heaving and tears streaking her face as limbs slapped against her skin painfully. She had no idea how far she’d gone in the short time, but she knew it was likely close to at least a couple of miles. Her legs and lungs were burning so she finally slowed to a brisk walk instead of an all-out run. 

She walked aimlessly until the sky started getting darker. Scout knew she should have headed back a long time ago, but damned if she wanted to face them again. She sure as hell didn’t want to see Daryl. She’d have felt better about things if she at least had her bow, but at least she’d had the forethought to clip her holster and pistol to her belt beside her hunting knife before leaving the bedroom. She thought she was somewhere near where her grandfather’s hunting cabin had once been, having burned down when she was in college thanks to lightening. If she could make it there, Scout knew there was at least an old shooting house nearby that she could hole up in for the night. Her best bet was to cross the creek and follow it north, so she headed down the hill towards the sound of water. Hopefully she could find a spot to cross, the heavy rainfall over the past couple of days surely had the creek well above its normal level. 

Scout carefully navigated the embankment heading down towards the water. She was maybe five feet away from the water when the sound of something in the brush to her left caught her attention. For a brief hopeful moment she thought it might be Daryl, but realized he’d never make that much noise. Nope, whatever was over there was heavy footed and didn’t care about letting everything in the area know where it was. Normally, she’d go investigate, but today she just wanted to find a place to sleep for the night. Unfortunately, what appeared to be the only area with a low enough water level and sufficient stepping stones was right in front of the place she wanted to avoid. 

Knife in hand, she was pondering the situation, focusing on the noises to her left, and never noticed the figure looming over her shoulder. Scout turned around just in time to see the stumbling corpse sneaking up behind her, its outstretched hands only inches away from grabbing hold of her. Deftly, Scout twirled away from it, raised her hunting knife and jammed it in the forehead of the walker before it could do any harm to her. 

The sound of their scuffle caused what was making noise in the brush to make its way in their direction. Scout barely had time to catch her breath before three more walkers stumbled their way out of the tangle of briars and underbrush. Not knowing how many more were out there, Scout refrained from pulling out her gun and considered her course of action with just her knife. A few steps to the right and she was able to puncture the eyeball of one of the before it could react. Unfortunately, thanks to the amount of force she used, the back of the knife where the saw blade was located managed to get caught inside the eye socket. Grabbing hold of a fistful of dirty shirt, Scout positioned the body between her and the other two walkers. One reached out with bony hands as she managed to free the knife and she pushed the one in her hands against the one that was attacking. Using the momentary distraction, she stabbed the fallen walker in the head and closed in on the remaining walker. This one was big, burly, reminded her of a pasty white Tyrese in size. Turning her knife in her hands, Scout rushed forward and thrust the blade through the bottom of his jaw; pushing deeply until he dropped to the ground. 

Feeling mildly proud of herself for handling the walkers so well since it had been a while since she had dealt with any, Scout leaned over and used the closest walker’s shirt to wipe the blood and bits of flesh off her of knife. She never saw the hand reaching out from the brush behind her, paying it no attention until its pale skeletal hand wrapped around her ankle. With a shriek of surprise and a swift kick to loosen the hold of what was grasping her ankle. Scout looked down as she stumbled backwards on the rocky hillside. She caught a glimpse of half of a rotten corpse on the ground as she tumbled down the hill to land with a sharp crack to the forehead on the rocky creek bed below.

Daryl searched for Scout until well after dark had fallen. Only giving up for the night because he couldn’t see and she clearly didn’t want to be found. With an exasperated growl of frustration, Daryl tossed his bow on to the couch and paced the living room like a caged animal. He stopped pacing when Rick entered the room long enough to tell him he couldn’t find Scout. “She’s fucking out there alone, in the dark, cold, and ain’t even got her bow. Hell, don’t even know if she’s got a weapon!”

“She had a gun on her belt and her knife, I think. Scout will be fine.” Rick tried his best to assure Daryl, but he knew that the only way Daryl would calm down was if Scout walked through the door or he went out and found her. “She can take care of herself, Daryl. Get some sleep. If she’s not back in the morning I will help you look for her.”

Daryl knew Rick was right. There wasn’t shit they could do in the dark and Scout could take care of herself that much he knew. Knowing that though didn’t make him feel any better. She was out there alone in the dark because of him; because of his distrust in her. If he had handled the situation differently, if he’d have kept from instantly aiming his bow at her instead of talking to her sensibly, maybe Scout wouldn’t have ran out of the house; ran away from him. Frustrated, Daryl paced around the living room a little while longer and even went out to check her treehouse just in case she’d slipped inside without him knowing. Feeling utterly useless, he flopped down on to the couch and waited for daylight. 

Scout was cold. Shivering, frozen to the bone cold, and wet. Her face was pressed against a rock, water lapping at the edges, and the rest of her body was a tangle of limbs laying on the moist sand at the edge of the creek. Her world spun, her stomach lurched, and vision swam as she forced herself off the ground. Scout managed to get to her knees in the sand and gingerly touched the throbbing spot on her forehead with a shaky hand and felt torn skin that was undoubtedly bloody, although it was too dark and she was too wet to tell how much. ‘Get up, get moving.’ She told herself, knowing that sitting around would only exacerbate the situation. She needed to get home.

Only the pale light of the moon lit her way as she crawled on hands and knees up the embankment she’d tumbled down. She had no idea where the half corpse that had taken her down was, and silently prayed that it wasn’t still up there. Her gun was waterlogged, but it would still work most likely, but she had no idea where her knife had ended up. Once at the top of the hill, Scout wiped away the blood trickling from the head wound and focused on her surroundings. Her vision swam and if she’d had anything in her stomach to throw up, she would have vomited. ‘Concussion,’ she thought, as she placed her hands on her knees to steady herself and hoped the dizzy feeling would pass soon. After a couple of deep breaths, she managed to feel slightly better, less dizzy, but still nauseous. Determined to get home, Scout picked what looked like the correct trail and hoped that she was on the right path to safety.

The trek home was demanding. Scout stumbled through the woods, staying on what she hoped was the right path home. Her vision was blurry, her head throbbed, her body ached all over and she couldn’t get warm. Shivering, teeth chattering, she fell to the ground exhausted. “Stop being a baby and get up! “She muttered as pressed her hands in to the dirt and forced her shattered body off the ground once more. “Just get home and you’ll be ok.”

Miraculously, after hours of forcing her body to do more than what it wanted to do, Scout ran straight in to the fence that surrounded her house. The barbed wire tore at her shirt, tangled in the material and cut into the tender flesh of her belly as she clumsily fought to detangle herself from its clutches. Finally free, she laid down on the ground and inched her way beneath the fencing since she knew she didn’t have the energy or skill to crawl over it at the moment. Once she was on the other side, finally in the yard, Scout laid there and rested, trying to muster up the last ounce of energy her body possessed. Crawling on hands and knees, she made her way around the side of the house to the back porch and used the stair railing to pull herself up on to her feet. On shaky legs, Scout shuffled up the stairs and stumbled across the porch to the back door. When she turned the knob it took her a few moments thanks to the head trauma to realize that the reason she couldn’t get it open was because it was locked. Weeping in frustration and utter exhaustion, Scout slid to the floor in a heap and rested her head against the door and pounded on it with all of her might.

Daryl didn’t know what had woken him up. In fact, he didn’t realize he’d actually fallen asleep, but apparently he had. Rubbing his hands across his face, he laid there in the dark and listened for the sound he thought he’d heard, the sound that had woken him up. There it was again! At the back door, he heard something banging against it. Well, not exactly banging as it was too faint to be labeled as such, but it was a noise either way. He grabbed his bow and hurried down the hallway in to the kitchen. Although the sun was starting to wake up, the kitchen was still pitch as night so he fumbled around at the counter until he located the flashlight he’d left there earlier. Flicking it on, he cautiously approached the door and shined the light out the window next to it. 

“Scout!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos on the previous chapters! Hope you guys enjoy the latest update.


	11. Chapter 11

“Scout!” He shouted as he dropped his bow and his flashlight so he could unlock the door. Daryl squatted down as she slumped over the threshold; blood dripping from her head on to the kitchen floor. He reached beneath her shoulders and pulled her into the house; kicking the door shut behind him. The flashlight was on the floor beside them, casting a beam of light across her face as Daryl inspected the wound on her head. He couldn’t help but notice the blue tint to her lips and pale skin. “Sonofabitch! Scout, wake up!” He screamed at her, demanding for her to open her eyes. When she didn’t, Daryl leaned over and pressed his ear to her chest. Her heart was beating softly, but at least it was still there and her breathing was ragged and shallow. “Somebody help!” Daryl screamed loudly, and continued screaming until the kitchen was lit up by lanterns signaling help had arrived. He looked up and found Rick, Maggie and Carol rushing towards him. “I don’t know what happened! I just found her like this.” Daryl explained helplessly. He couldn’t help but think to himself that this was all his fault. 

“We’ve got to get her warmed up.” Maggie rushed in to Scout’s room, which was thankfully still unlocked, and headed to the bathroom to fill up the bathtub. “Rick, you and Daryl bring her in here!”

Daryl allowed Rick to help him get to his feet with Scout, but gathered her into his arms instead of letting Rick help him carry her to the bedroom. He had a brief moment to realize that the women he cared about always seemed to end up injured and in his arms; or worse, dead and in his arms. Shaking off morbid thoughts, Daryl carried Scout in to her room and laid her on the bed. He knew he needed to get her out of the cold and wet clothes, but he didn’t want to do that in front of Rick. 

“I’ll go gather first aid supplies.” Rick announced, sensing that Daryl would rather he wasn’t in the room for the next step. 

Carol entered the room and shut the door behind her before lighting a lantern and sitting it on the dresser by the bed. “Here let me help you.” She said as she squatted at the foot of the bed and started removing Scout’s boots and socks. “Poor thing’s frozen to the bone.”

Daryl started peeling her clothing from her body, trying to scan for injuries in the dim light. “Don’t look like she’s bitten.” Pulling her into his arms again, he eased the sodden sweater and tank top off of her and noticed for the first time the tattoo on her back. From her shoulders down to the tip of her buttocks was a set of angel wings that resembled the ones on the back of his vest so closely one would think that they hers had been drawn while looking at his. He also noticed the scratches across her back and the bruises at her waist and realized after a moment how they had gotten there. He hadn’t realized he’d been so rough with her, and certainly hadn’t given a thought to as how the bark must’ve felt against her back. 

Carol saw the markings and had an idea as to where they came from, but since they weren’t serious she moved on to helping Daryl get Scout’s pants off. Once Scout had been divested of her clothing, except her bra and panties to save her a little bit of dignity, Carol helped Daryl get Scout in to the bathroom where Maggie had just finished filling the tub with water. 

They lifted Scout in to the tub and Daryl realized once she was in there that she couldn’t keep her head above water on her own since she was unconscious. She needed someone to help her stay upright in the tub. Without giving it a second thought, Daryl reached over his head to grab hold of his shirt and pulled it off, along with his boots and socks; leaving him only in a pair of pants. Daryl leaned over the tub, grabbed Scout by the shoulders and eased her forward far enough that he could slid in to the tub behind her. Water sloshed out of the tub from his extra weight, but he didn’t pay it any attention as he was focused solely on Scout. Cradling her body in his arms, Daryl adjusted them both so that her head was leaning back against his chest. “I got her. Get Rick, we need that first aid kit."

Maggie was back with supplies quickly and set about cleaning up the area around Scout’s head wound while Daryl held the flashlight above Scout’s head to provide a little more light since the early morning sun was only weakly peeking through the window. They couldn’t wash her hair just yet, but she was able to get Scout’s face and hair line cleaned off enough to inspect the wound just above her left eyebrow. “It’s pretty deep and should probably be stitched.”

“You got stuff to do it?” Daryl asked as he pushed a strand of hair off her forehead so he could inspect the wound himself. Sure enough, the gash above her eyebrow was at least three inches long and deep; definitely needed sutures instead of a butterfly bandage. 

“Yes, but I’ve never done stitches. I think Daddy taught Carol the basics though.” Maggie laid out the necessary items as she hollered for Carol to come help. Sutures and a needle, but there wasn’t any lidocaine to numb the area. When Carol came in behind her, Maggie gestured to the suture kit and asked, “Daddy taught you how to do stitches, right?”

“Likely won’t be pretty, but I can do them. Scoot over.” Carol pulled the stool that was by the sink over to the bathtub and perched by the tub. “Let’s get this over with while she’s out cold.”

With steady hands, Carol silently stitched the wound and while it wasn’t perfect, she had to admit it was better than she thought it would be with so little light, and so little practice. She chalked it up to the patient being unconscious and unmoving. “Need to keep that area from getting wet, but otherwise I think it will heal nicely.”

Maggie started cleaning up the supplies and wiping up the water that had sloshed out of the bathtub when Daryl had crawled in with Scout; while Carol went in to the bedroom to clean up the wet clothes and find fresh sheets since the ones currently on the bed were now damp. During this time, Daryl did his best to clean the dirt and blood off of Scout’s hands, arms and neck. Although she was still out cold, her body temperature had risen enough so that her skin was still pale, but no longer blue, and her breathing was less haggard. 

Knowing the water would soon start to lose its heat and Daryl figured he needed to get Scout out, dried off and in bed, but he didn’t exactly know how he was going to go about doing that from his current position. He called out for Maggie and Carol to come back in and help him, thankful that the bathroom was at least fairly large and could accommodate several people at once. “Maggie, lean her forward and hold her there while I get out.” Daryl somewhat clumsily eased himself out from under Scout and climbed out of the bathtub, once again sloshing water out of the tub. “Hold her there while I change.” 

Daryl quickly located a pair of pants from the closet, halfassedly dried off and put them on, then darted back to the bathroom. Leaning over the tub, he pulled the drain plug to let out the water and motioned for Carol to bring over the towels. “I’ll lift her up, you try to dry her off.”

The three of them managed to get Scout dried off and back in the bedroom. While Maggie and Carol cleaned up the bathroom yet again, Daryl stripped off her wet undergarments and, now that the morning sunlight was lighting the room sufficiently, he checked over her once more to make sure he hadn’t missed any other injuries. Daryl was happy to confirm that she didn’t have any more injuries, at least any visible ones. He did, however, notice two big scars that he had missed earlier; a circular one on her upper thigh and what he thought might be a surgical scar on her lower abdomen; pale white and obviously old. He wondered what had caused them, but only briefly before getting back to putting her in bed. Figuring dressing her would be more trouble than it was worth, he slipped Scout beneath the sheets without clothes on. After covering her up with the comforter and adding on another blanket he found hanging on the back of a nearby chair, he lifted her head up and placed a towel across the pillow to keep it from getting soaked by her wet hair. Lastly, he dried the last bit of water off his chest and put his shirt back on before pulling the chair over to the bed and sat down; planning on keeping vigil until Scout woke up.

A couple of hours later, Daryl was slumped over in the chair with his head resting in his hands as he leaned over on to the bed when Maggie came in with a tray of food. “Figured you’d be hungry by now. Carol made venison stew.”

Daryl mumbled thanks, but didn’t make any attempt to take the food from her. Maggie slid the tray on to the table by the bed before leaning over the bed to check on Scout’s stitches. “Has she woken up at all?”

“No. Mumbled a bit in her sleep, wasn’t nothing I could make out.” Daryl frowned and chewed on his thumbnail nervously. “Shouldn’t have damn been out there alone.”

“She just needs some rest. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Maggie walked around to the foot of the bed and perched on the edge. She saw the worry etched on his face and knew Daryl well enough to know he wasn’t just worried about her condition. He blamed himself, just like he blamed himself for Beth. “It’s not your fault, Daryl.”

“Hell it ain’t. Could’ve done something different. Kept my damn bow outta her face. Something!” Daryl objected vehemently, slamming his fist down on the arm rest. “If I’d…if…shit, what if she didn’t come back?”

“You can play the ‘what if’ game all day, but in the end she chose to leave. Her being injured still isn’t you fault. Whatever caused her to hit her head caused this, not you.” Maggie knew that he would still blame himself no matter how long she tried to reason with him. “You were alone when you fell down that embankment, had that arrow go through you, and you made it home. Scout did the same thing, she’s a fighter, just like you. She’ll be fine.”

Daryl gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to brooding, his eyes never wavering from Scout. Anyone could take one look at him and know that he had feelings for Scout, but it took someone that knew Daryl to know that he was struggling with those feelings. Maggie didn’t, however, know if he was having trouble with feelings towards Scout because of his feelings for Beth, or if he was just the type of person who didn’t know how to handle those particular emotions at all. Maybe Daryl had never known what it was like to be in love and happy? Maggie was fairly certain she knew Daryl now, but she had no idea what type of person he'd been or how his life was before the turn. She did, however, know that he wasn’t going to talk to her about his feelings, because Daryl just wasn’t that type of person; before or after the turn. 

Maggie reached out and touched him on the leg to get his attention. “I know I’m not your favorite person and I know that I’m to blame for that. I’m sorry. After Daddy died and we got separated, I don’t know why I gave up on Beth. I assumed I’d lost her, too. I didn’t know how strong she was, I just saw her as my helpless baby sister. And then, when we found you and you told us she was with you the whole time, I was happy that she had you to take care of her, because I couldn’t. But, she was gone again, and I still didn’t think she’d survive. I guess…I guess I just didn’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t know. There’s really no way to explain why I acted the way I did, I was just a shitty sister. And I am truly sorry for that.” Maggie wiped away tears from her eyes and forced herself to meet Daryl’s gaze. “I never got to tell you thank you for taking care of her.”

“Lot of good I was.” Daryl replied bitterly. He was shocked that Maggie was even talking to him about Beth, much less apologizing for not caring enough about her sister to worry about her, ask where she was, or try to find her when she learned Beth had been kidnapped. “Beth was…she was stronger than any of us gave her credit for.”

“I realize that now. I know you cared for her and I have no doubt she cared about you…loved you. I don’t know what happened between you two and honestly, I don’t really want to know any of the details. But, Daryl, I do know my sister well enough to know that she would want you to be happy.” Maggie reached out to take Daryl’s hand in hers and looked him with tears in her eyes. “Beth wouldn’t want you to be this unhappy if you had a chance at something…at being with someone who would take away the sadness.” 

Daryl was glad that Maggie left it at that and didn’t press the issue any further. How could he talk to her about how he felt about her little sister? Beth had barely been eighteen, years younger than he was…hell, Daryl felt weird about his feelings for her solely based on their age difference. Did he love Beth? He thought he had…did…but he’d never been in love, so he wasn’t sure. All he could be truly sure of was that he looked at Beth and saw someone that made him want to be a better man, to be someone that she could be proud of and care about. Had he wanted to have a romantic connection with her? Hell, he didn’t know. They weren’t given a chance to explore that aspect of their relationship. But, Maggie was right, even Daryl knew that much about Beth. She was that type of person, that truly good person that would want those that she loved to be happy even though she was no longer with them.

Daryl just had to figure out if he was able to forgive himself for failing to keep Beth safe and if he was able to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and the review! Hope you guys like the latest chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

Her mouth was dry, like Sahara desert in the middle of the summer parched, and her head felt like someone had bludgeoned it with a hammer when she woke up. Forcing her eyes to open, Scout looked around the room confused. How had she gotten in to bed? The last thing she remembered was climbing the steps on the back porch. Scout moved her legs and when her left one hit something solid she looked at the foot of the bed, surprised to see Daryl sitting in her father’s favorite chair with his head resting on the mattress beside her. Although he was clearly asleep, he woke up the instant her leg came in contact with his head. 

“Hey,” Daryl sat up and looked at her with a concerned expression, “How you feeling”

“Like a truck ran over me.” Scout croaked, her mouth and throat entirely too dry to have a conversation. “Water?”

Daryl got up and picked up the glass of water on the bedside table and helped her take a few sips through a straw. “Took a nasty shot to the head. Carol patched you up. You remember anything?”

“Infected. In the woods. There were four of them, surprised me.” She paused to take another sip of water before continuing. “No, four and a half. The half got me.” Scout reached up to gingerly inspect the stitched up wound on her forehead. No wonder her head felt like it had been through the wringer. “Grabbed my ankle and I fell down a hill, smacked my head on a rock.”

“You’re lucky…and tough. Found you on the porch.” Daryl sat the water back on the table when she was done. He wanted to say he was sorry, to apologize for making her run away from him and for causing her to get hurt, but he also didn’t want to burden her with his guilt just yet. “Need anything?”

“Bathroom?” Scout wiggled around trying to get the layers of blankets off of her and realized something was amiss. “I’m naked, aren’t I?”

“Fraid so. We had to clean you up and get you warm. Figured it was easier to stick you in bed naked than try to dress you.” Daryl reached down to help move the covers for her to get out of bed. When Scout weakly tugged them back towards her, he grinned and said, “Nothing I ain’t seen already.”

Scout wanted to pull the covers over her head and die. “By ‘we’, how many are we talking?” If the whole house had seen her naked she was just going to pack a bag and leave them to the house. Scout could count on one hand how many people had seen her nude and still have a few fingers left over…until today, that is. 

“Me, Maggie and Carol. They only saw you in your underwear though.” Daryl motioned towards the bathroom, “You going or not?”

“Yes.” Scout replied begrudgingly as she scooted to the side of the bed, clutching the sheets to her chest tightly. “Can I at least have the robe on the back of the door?” 

Daryl helped her out of bed and into the robe, but once they were in the bathroom she shooed him out the door. “I can’t pee with you in here.” After assuring him that she wouldn’t hurt herself on the toilet, he thankfully obliged and went back in to the bedroom to wait for her to finish. When she was finished and opened the door, Daryl was there waiting to help her back to the bed. “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay here and help me.”

“Know I don’t have to.” Was all Daryl said as he pulled back the covers and helped Scout crawl back in bed. “Don’t mean I ain’t going to.” 

Scout watched warily as Daryl took a seat in the blue and green plaid chair that had been her father's favorite place to sit, and the bane of her mother's decorating taste. Once seated, their eyes connected and Scout could tell that he had something on his mind. Daryl ran a hand through his hair with a sigh of frustration and started to speak, only to be stopped short by the soft knocking of cautious knuckles rapping against the bedroom door. With what appeared to be an odd combination of annoyance and relief, Daryl called out for whomever was on the other side of the door to come on in. Curiosity would have been killing Scout to know what was on his mind if she wasn't in so much pain, and if she still wasn't harboring a fair amount of resentment towards him and their group for questioning her trustworthiness yesterday.

Carol eased the door open, one hand weighed down with a tray, and entered the bedroom. "Heard voices, so I thought I'd peek in to check on how you were feeling." She slid past where Daryl was sitting to place the tray on the bedside table and Scout could see that there was a bowl of soup, another glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. "Figured you might want something for the pain."

"Could use something stronger, honestly." Scout thought about the assortment of medication down in the basement and wondered why she wasn't being offered something from the medicine cabinet down there instead of the over the counter aspirin from the med kit under the kitchen sink. "Head injury doesn't get me some hydrocodone or are you guys keeping the good stuff for yourself?" 

"I...I'm sorry, this was all we found in the kitchen." Carol replied helplessly, shooting a look at Daryl that Scout couldn't see. 

"The basement. There's medicine down there." Scout informed them with a questioning look on her face. Surely they’d have pilfered through the supplies downstairs after going through the trouble of forcing her to let them down there. 

"They ain't been down there. Rick closed it up after we saw what was down there." Daryl leaned forward to peer around Carol to make eye contact with Scout again. "Not our place to take your stuff."

Confused, Scout wrinkled her brow and stared at them both in silence. Why wouldn't they claim the supplies after going through the trouble of threatening her with their weapons to let them down there? Scout licked her dry lips and slowly started peeling off the blankets so that she could go downstairs to get something stronger. Her head was pounding and her body ached something awful, the pain around her ribs now rivaled the pain from her head, clearly aspirin wasn't going to do the trick. 

"Where you going?" Daryl asked, out of his chair and by her side in barely a blink of the eye. "You don't need to be up roaming around."

Her vision was swimming again, tiny pinpricks of black dots pulsated in front of her, so Scout obediently laid back down. "You win. But, you're going to have to go down to the medicine cabinet." Once she'd rearranged the blankets and sheets back on top of her, Scout motioned towards the closet and continued," Back of the closet, push the clothes to the side and there's a door. I'll tell you the combination." Her father would likely roll over in his grave for her telling someone the combination, had he'd received a proper burial, that is. At Daryl's questioning look, Scout sarcastically replied, "It's not like you couldn't force me to unlock again. Why not just give out the combination to save us all the trouble?"

Another wave of guilt washed over Daryl as he turned to head to the closet. He wanted to apologize for yesterday, for not trusting her, and for letting his action's lead to her getting injured, but Daryl wanted to do that in private; without Carol gawking at him. "Aight, what is it?" He hollered from within the closet, keying in the code as Scout called it out to him. 

Daryl had to marvel at the thought Scout's father put in to his family's safety and wondered what it felt like to have parents that obviously cared for their children's welfare. His father had certainly never cared about how their children felt, much less cared enough to worry about their wellbeing in the case of an emergency. His mother might have at one point in the early days of his and Merle's existence, but years of drowning herself in booze to escape the impact from the abuse their father inflicted on her led to their mother sinking into a shell of her former self; someone who clearly couldn't care for herself, much less her children. Sometimes, he wondered if burning herself in the bed while smoking cigarettes had truly been an accident, or if she'd finally had enough of dealing with her life; her abusive husband and constant drain of caring for children she no longer loved had finally drained her of the will to live. While Daryl could see why someone in her position would want to escape, he still considered suicide to be the actions of a coward.

Once inside the basement, Daryl flipped on the lights and following Scout's orders he located the medicine cabinet tucked away in a corner next to the covered chemical toilet and bathroom supplies. Opening what was in reality a trunk full of medicine, rather than a medicine cabinet, he gawked at the various packets and bottles filled with an array of multicolored pills; each one marked clearly with what was inside and how much someone should take. The assortment of pills, most importantly the ones marked as painkillers, would have sent his brother, Merle, into a fit of excitement. Daryl, however, carefully located the hydrocodone that Scout requested and closed the trunk without taking anything else. He'd already fucked up enough, damaged whatever trust they'd had between them without stealing something as valuable these days as medication. Plus, he'd always favored alcohol over narcotics anyway; a trait he'd clearly inherited from both of his parents.

Carol watched in silence as Daryl handed Scout the bottle of pills she'd requested before reclaiming the chair he'd been sitting in all day long. He had to be tired of sitting, Carol had never known Daryl to be still for very long. "I can stay with her for a bit if you want to take a break. You've been in here all day."

As if Daryl didn't know he had been in the room with Scout all day, but leave it to Carol to point out the obvious. "Nah, I'm good." Leaned back, he propped his boot up on the railing of the bed and casually inspected the thumbnail on his right hand before chewing on the corner of it. Nail biting was a nasty habit that his mother had tried to break him of when he was little, one of the few times she'd tried to instill some type of manners in him. "Your dad stocked up good." He said to Scout, changing the conversation.

"Yeah, lotta good it did him, but he tried." Scout admitted before tipping her head back to swallow a white oval pill. She shouldn't be taking pain meds on an empty stomach, but she wasn't hungry at all; her stomach was still queasy with nausea from the head injury. But, she needed her strength and knew some food in her stomach might make the nausea go away a bit. Scout leaned over to get the bowl of soup on the end table, but it was just outside of her reach. She graciously accepted help from Carol and took the bowl of soup from her. "Thank you. Not sure how much I can eat though."

"Every little bit helps." Carol placed the small plate that held a piece of bread from the loaf she'd made that morning beside Scout on the bed and made sure the new glass of water was in reach before easing back towards the bedroom door. "Let me know if you need anything else, ok? That goes for you, too, Daryl."

"Ah, canned chicken noodle soup. I don't think I've had this since college." Scout joked as she slurped soup from the spoon. 

"Figured you for a college girl." Daryl eyeballed her intently as she ate her soup and wondered if she'd gotten in trouble for slurping soup that way as a child. "Your mom didn't teach you not to slurp?"

"She tried. Soup's boring without the slurp. If it bothers you feel free to leave." Scout leveled her gaze at Daryl and challenged him to say something else about her bad manners. When he neither left nor commented further about her eating style, she added, "What do you mean, 'figured me as a college girl'?"

"I dunno. Rich? Family seems like the type to send their kids to college." Daryl traced the pattern of plaid on the arm rest and avoided her gaze. "You saying you didn't go?"

"No, I went. Just wondering what made you think I did. But, I'll have you know I went on scholarship. My parents didn't pay for me or my brother to go. If we couldn't get ourselves there on scholarship, we were expected to pay our way through. My dad wasn't too keen on making our lives super easy...said that just raised a bunch of pansies." Scout slurped up the last of the broth, but left a good bit of noodles in the bottom of the bowl; opting to eat the bread instead. "I'm guessing by your snotty tone you didn't go to college?"

"Shit no. Barely made it out of high school." Daryl admitted, only slightly embarrassed. "School ain't never been my thing."

"Guess that's a good thing now. A college degree doesn't mean much with the way things are now, except maybe if you had a medical degree, I guess." Scout placed her bowl and plate back on the tray and took a few sips of water before scooting back down under the bed covers. The painkiller was beginning to take effect and she was starting to feel slightly woozy. "I didn't graduate though. Didn't even get my Bachelor's degree, much less a medical one."

"Why bother going if you ain't going to graduate?" Daryl asked, curious since he couldn't fathom ever putting forth that much effort and not at least get the useless piece of paper saying you had graduated. 

"I meant to go back, life just had other plans." Scout felt warm and fuzzy all over, the pill she took was meant to provide pain relief to someone much bigger than she was, but she hadn't felt like dealing with splitting it in two; she knew enough about medication to know that taking the larger dose wouldn't hurt her, that is would just make her sleep a little longer. Her eyes felt heavy, so she closed them, but continued talking, “Left when my sister got killed. Stayed home with the parents for a while. But, I got sick before I was supposed to start again, and didn't bother going back when I was well." Her tongue felt thick and her words were a starting to slur a little, but her injuries weren't throbbing with pain anymore and that's all that mattered right now. 

Daryl didn't bother replying as it was obvious Scout was asleep once more, which was good since she needed rest. She'd told him more about herself in that one conversation than she'd said the whole time they'd known one another. Not that he could blame her for playing her cards close to the vest, it wasn't as if he'd been a fountain of information about himself either. He wanted to know how her sister had been killed and what kind of illness she'd had that was bad enough to keep her from returning to school; and wondered if he could get her to answer those questions when she woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos. :) Hope you enjoy the update.


	13. Chapter 13

Daryl watched Scout sleep for a few minutes before taking a break to use the bathroom. He didn't want to admit that Carol was right, he did need to get up and move around, he wasn't used to sitting for so long. But, he felt it was his duty to stay by Scout and make sure she was ok since his guilt kept reminding him that her current situation was his fault. Hell, it wasn't just yesterday's showdown in the kitchen that caused her head injury. If Daryl was truly honest with himself, he knew that telling Rick about their first encounter in the woods was what led to the whole fiasco. If Rick hadn't known about her, then he wouldn't have made Daryl find her hiding spot and they wouldn't have badgered their way in to her home. If they'd have just left Scout alone she'd have never gotten mad at them, at him, and never ran off in to the woods pissed off. Her emotions wouldn't have been over the top, out of control and her concentration wouldn't have been distracted. She would have been more focused on her surroundings and wouldn't have gotten caught off guard by half a damn crawling corpse and wouldn't have fallen down the hill. 

Back in the bedroom, Daryl lifted the soup bowl to his lips and slid the remaining noodles in his mouth; it was better to eat them than let them go to waste. Tray in hand, he carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen, but left the bedroom door open on the slight chance that Scout might wake up and need him. In the kitchen he found Carol, Maggie and Sasha at the kitchen table playing cards. "She's asleep again."

"Good. She needs rest." Maggie said, sitting her cards face down on the table. "How's she feeling?"

"Good as expected, I guess." He laid the tray down and turned to face the girls; hip resting against the tiled counter. "Pissed off. Don't blame her much."

"We didn't know what was down there." Sasha chimed in. "Secrets like that get people killed."

Daryl knew better than she that locked barns and doors led to people getting killed, but didn't say anything in response. He glanced outside and saw that night was once again about to fall. He wondered how long that painkiller would make Scout sleep. "Where's everyone at?"

"Rick's outside with Glenn and Carl checking the fence. Tyrese is upstairs with Judith." Carol laid her cards down and pushed the chair back to stand up. "She's cutting new teeth and has been fussy all day." She cleared the tray and started washing the dishes. "Dinner will be stew again, and there's a fresh batch of bread to go with it. You want to stay out here and eat with us, or should I bring you in a tray?"

Although he figured Scout would be out cold for several hours, Daryl still felt obligated to stay by her side. "I'll come out to eat if she stays asleep, holler when it's time." While he wanted to sit with Scout, he also needed to be with his family. There had been a wedge driven between them since Beth's death and it was far past time to start working on mending the situation. Daryl crossed the kitchen and entered the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him before taking his seat by Scout's bedside once more.

Out in the kitchen, the card game ensued, lasting a few rounds before the curiosity of the situation in the master bedroom brought out the gossip. "So, they're a thing, right?" Sasha asked curiously as she put two cards down and requested two more from Maggie. 

"I wouldn't exactly call it a 'thing'." Maggie handed Sasha her cards and motioned towards Carol to see if she wanted any from the deck; handing her one when she traded a card. "I'm not sure Daryl even knows what they are."

"He's having a hard time. After Beth." Carol added the new card to the set in her hands and frowned when she realized it didn't help her at all. Frowning, she laid her hand face down on the table to fold. "Daryl adjusted to the turn better than he handles relationships."

Just then the back door opened and the guys strolled inside; locking the door behind them. "Fence is secure. There was one spot where the barbwire was messed up, but judging by the scrap of fabric tangled in it I’d say that’s where Scout came through last night. Would explain the torn shirt and scratches on her stomach you mentioned, Carol." Rick explained as he unstrapped his holster and laid it on the counter. "She awake yet?"

"Yeah, woke up a little while ago. Got her to eat some soup." Carol stood up and headed towards the fridge so she could start dinner since everyone was back inside. "She gave Daryl the code to the basement. Turns out there was medicine down there, stronger medicine than the aspirin I tried to give her."

"What'd she do that for?" Glenn asked as he sat down next to his wife, brushing a kiss across her cheek. "Why bother hiding it from us if she's just going to tell us the code?"

"Said we'd just force our way back in there otherwise, it was just easier to give the combination. Although, she was confused as to why we locked it again in the first place." Carol sat the container of stew on the counter and set about loading some firewood into the wood burning stove that sat at the back of the kitchen by the back door. While there was a gas stove, there was no since using it since there was a limited supply of fuel for it. The wood burning stove would more than sufficiently heat the food, as well as provide some heat for the house. Once the fire was going, she scooped the contents of the container into a cast iron pot and stirred it a few times before turning back to the group. "I know you said it was best for us, but why did we close that back up? What if she hadn't come back and we couldn't have gotten in there for those supplies?"

"I honestly thought Daryl would find her. Hell, he's tracked down everyone else, right?" Rick scrubbed a hand over his beard and leaned against the doorframe to the hallway. "I wanted her to trust us again when she got back. Let her make the decision to allow us access." He knew that shoving the gun in to Scout's face without giving her time to explain what was down there, to have a reasonable discussion first, was the wrong call. But, with the way things had gone for their group based on locked doors, Rick had jumped the gun and taken things to another level that hadn't worked for anyone. He nodded towards the bedroom and asked, "Daryl in there?"

"Yeah, he came out for a minute, but went right back in. Said he'd be out for dinner if she was still asleep." Carol stirred the pot and grabbed bowls. Upside to cooking on a wood burning stove was that food got hot fairly quickly and as such, dinner was almost heated up. She grabbed bowls and spoons and sat them on the counter before she started slicing the bread she'd made that morning. "You can go see if he wants to eat with us if you want. It's almost ready."

"Alright." Rick slipped around the kitchen table and down the small hallway towards Scout's bedroom; knocking lightly until he heard Daryl's gruff voice telling him to come in. "Hey, Carol said dinner's almost done. Wanted to see if you were going to come out and eat."

Daryl looked over at Scout, who in the pale glow of a nearby lantern appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Before the sun had disappeared for the evening and he had needed to light the lantern, Daryl had noticed that the area around her wound was starting to bruise. By tomorrow she would undoubtedly have a large black and blue bruise spreading across part of her forehead and possibly a black eye to go with it. He wondered how upset she'd be when she saw it. "She's out cold. Guess I'll come out there."

Settled around the dining room table since that one was bigger and could accommodate all of them better than the kitchen table, they passed out bowls and dished out stew to everyone. Daryl dug in, intending on eating quickly so he could get back to Scout, but the conversation went to an area that really didn't allow him to do that. 

"The last bit of the food from the garden has been canned and put away. We should be good with that for a month or so, then we'll likely have to resort to whatever is in the basement. We'll try to stretch it out as long as possible." Rick took a piece of bread, dunked it into the stew and took a bite; chewing and swallowing before continuing. "I'm going to take Carl out and try for some small game tomorrow, but Daryl, we could really use some larger kills when you're ready to get back out there."

"Aight." Daryl had no intentions of going tomorrow, but maybe the next day if Scout was feeling better. Not that he could take her with him, but he'd feel better being out hunting if he knew she was on the mend. 

"Hopefully this will be a shorter winter than last year so that we can get back on the road before spring, but we need to prepare on being here for another four or five months at least." The previous winter hadn't been filled with snow and freezing temperatures, but the colder months had lasted well in to April. Their group had been miserable cooped up in a small house they'd found outside of Atlanta for those months; barely surviving on small rodents and the canned foods they managed to scavenge from other houses. Rick didn't want to have to go through that again. He was engrossed in thought while he stared at his stew and missed the look exchanged between Glenn and Maggie at the end of the table.

"Um, Rick? We have something we need to discuss." Glenn nervously fidgeted with his spoon while Maggie poked at her stew with a lump of bread; avoiding Rick's glare. "Thing is, we might not be able to travel that soon."

Rick didn't need to ask as to why. Judging by the flush of embarrassment on Glenn's face and Maggie's avoidance, he already knew the answer to the question. To be perfectly honest, he was surprised it had taken them this long to end up pregnant. But, Glenn was right, their group certainly couldn't travel on foot with a pregnant woman; especially a long trip. They'd learned their lesson on how difficult that was with Lori. "How far along?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe six weeks? I dunno really." Maggie took Glenn's hand in comfort. She knew they'd been being risky having unprotected sex and knew the consequences of their actions, but they'd only ran out of condoms they'd managed to scavenge here and there from gas stations and drug stores before they'd moved in to Scout's house. "I'm not even certain I'm pregnant."

"Don't think Scout has any tests squirreled away downstairs, do you?" Glenn joked nervously, only half serious. "I can make a run somewhere if Scout can tell me where or has a map?"

"No one is going anywhere. Either she is or she isn't. We'll know for sure soon enough." Rick leaned back in his chair and surveyed his family. "We'll wait until we know for sure before telling Scout. No sense upsetting her now until it's certain."

"Shit. She ain't going to be happy." Daryl put the last piece of bread in to his mouth and shoved away from the table while he chewed. "Said we'd be outta here after winter and now, what? We'll be here until the baby can travel?" He wanted to tell Maggie and Glenn they should've kept their damn hormones under control, but then he remembered that he'd done just what they'd done. With the stress of Scout's injury he hadn't even thought about the fact that they'd had unprotected sex in the woods. Hell, what had he been thinking? What if Scout was pregnant, too? "Sumbitch, this is fucked up." He growled, directed more at himself than towards the group. Daryl shoved his chair under the table and stalked off towards the bedroom.

"He, um...he took that rough." Glenn muttered. "What was that about? It's not like we don't have a baby here already."

Rick didn't bother replying to Glenn. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, but he was fairly certain that Daryl's irritation about a possible pregnancy was less directed at Maggie and Glenn and focused more on himself and Scout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos!


	14. Chapter 14

The sun was streaming through the bedroom windows by the time Scout woke up. Groggy and once again dry mouthed, she stretched and blinked her eyes a few times trying to adjust to the light. She smiled briefly when her line of sight landed on Daryl, who was fast asleep in the chair; slouched over with his head resting on his crossed arms on the bed. Scout wondered if he'd been there all night long and if he had, knew that he couldn't be comfortable sleeping like that for very long. 

Parched, Scout eased across the bed until she was close enough to reach the glass of water on the nightstand. She gulped at it greedily until every last drop was gone and seriously considered going to the bathroom to refill the glass. But she didn't want to bother Daryl by crawling out of the bed. Instead, she scooted back to the warm spot in the bed and snuggled back down beneath the covers and contentedly watched Daryl sleep at the foot of her bed. There was something very childlike about him when he slept; like all of the badass hunter, strong silent type brashness about him melted away. 

"Why you watching me?" Daryl mumbled without bothering to open his eyes to look at Scout. He wondered how long she'd been awake watching him and the thought unnerved him. He didn't like feeling like he was under a microscope. "You that bored?"

"Nothing else to watch in here." Scout blushed, embarrassed that she'd been caught watching him. She should've known he wasn't the type to fully slip into a deep sleep; always aware of what was going on around him. "You been there all night? That can't be comfortable."

"It ain't." Daryl sat up and rolled his neck from side to side causing a series of cracks. "How you feeling?" He noticed he was right in his assumption she would be bruised when she woke up. Sure enough, there was a huge bruise that spread across half her forehead down to her temple and blackened the outer part of her eye. 

"Like I just got kicked repeatedly by an angry donkey, but slightly better than yesterday. Thirsty though." Scout wanted to get out of bed to get another glass of water and was about to do so, when Daryl snatched the glass from the table and went to fill it. "How long am I confined to this bed?"

"Hell, I ain't no doctor." Daryl returned and handed her the glass of water. "But even I know you ain't ready to be up walking around much." 

Scout thanked him for the water and gulped it down as fast as she had the first time. "Thanks for that. I can't seem to get un-thirsty, you know?" Daryl took the glass from her and filled it up again, this time she just had him sit it on the table instead. "I don't wanna stay in this bed. It's miserable."

"Can't say I blame you. Never did like laying around either." Daryl paced across the floor at the end of the bed. "Maybe you could sit outside if it ain't too cold later."

"That and a shower would be amazing. I feel like my hair is full of dirt." Scout shoved her hair back away from her face and thought for the millionth time since the beginning of the whole end of the world fiasco that it would be so much easier if she just cut it all off. "I'm scared to even think about what it looks like."

"Ain't as bad as your face." Daryl replied without thinking. He had never been one to mince words, but he certainly hadn't meant to say that. "Shit. I mean, your hair don't look that bad. But, you look like you've went a few rounds with Tyson."

"That bad, huh?" Scout grimaced and gingerly poked at her stitches. No doubt they'd leave a nasty scar as jagged as the wound was. "Yep, I need a shower. It has to happen." Scout moved the covers and slowly inched over to the edge of the bed; holding her breath as to not cause any more pain in her side. Daryl was on her in a second. "I've got to walk by myself at some point."

"Fine. Just trying to help." Daryl backed off, but didn't go far just in case she was more unsteady on her feet than she thought she might be.

"Oh holy hell." Scout glowered at her expression in the mirror. Daryl had been right, her hair wasn't the worst thing about her appearance. While it certainly wasn't pretty, sticking out in all different directions, the jagged wormlike wound on her forehead along with multiple bruises that covered a quarter of her face was definitely a fright. "That certainly isn't very becoming." 

She looked at Daryl, who was leaning against the doorframe and clearly choosing to not comment on her appearance any further. "Ok, shoo! You most certainly are not needed for this." 

Daryl thought about making another comment about already seeing everything she was hiding under the robe, but decided against it. "M'kay...you need me, holler."

"I won't need you." Scout promised as she ushered him out of the room. Once alone, she stepped over to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush, put some toothpaste on it and started scrubbing her fuzzy feeling teeth. She could only imagine what her breath smelled like and shuddered at the thought. After brushing her teeth, she added a little mouthwash to the process just in case the minty toothpaste hadn't killed the bad breath germs.

She figured a bath was better for her since she was so weak, but didn't want to deal with trying to wash her hair that way. Instead, she opted for a shower and turned on the water, choosing a temperature somewhere between the fires of hell and a toasty day on the beach. Ditching her robe, she stepped in the shower and relished the heat for only a moment before thoroughly soaping every inch of her skin; while inspecting her body for other injuries. Her knees were bruised and stomach had some scratches across it, nothing major or too deep to worry about though. Although, she was beginning to think she may have a cracked or bruised rib...or two; judging by the discoloration forming around them and the pain she was having when she moved too quickly or breathed too deeply. Scout swiped the soap across the already scabbed over scratches and noticed the bruises on her hips that were clearly Daryl's handiwork from their moment in the woods. She wondered what he'd thought of them when he'd inspected her when she had returned home.

Washing her hair felt amazing and she tried her best to keep as much water and shampoo out of her stitches, but probably failed miserably. She started to feel dizzy, but did not want to call out to Daryl for help, so she sat down in the bottom of the tub and put the plug in; switching off the shower and letting water run in until a few inches were in the bottom. Scout grabbed her razor and soap to shave her legs and underarms, although it really wasn't necessary as she didn't intend on anyone touching either area any time soon. 

Feeling marginally better, she let the water run out of the tub before getting out; sitting on the edge of the tub while she dried off and combed her hair. It was then Scout realized that she hadn't thought about getting anything clean out to wear before taking a shower. She couldn't bear the thought of putting on that thick robe again, so she wrapped the towel around her torso, ensuring that it covered all the necessary areas, and went in to the bedroom. Sure enough, Daryl was perched on the edge of the bed waiting for her.

"Feel better?" He asked as he avoided looking at her, even though the towel covered everything important and, as he had already pointed out, he'd already seen everything that was underneath it. Still, Daryl didn't feel right just gawking at her. 

"Very much so." Scout scooted past him and went to the dresser, pulling out underwear, a t-shirt and pair of old yoga pants from a different lifetime. She weighed her options for getting dressed and opted for slipping the panties and yoga pants on while the towel was still around her, then turned her back to Daryl to put on a bra and the shirt. 

"I, uh, your tattoo...I like it." Daryl said without turning around, knowing she was getting dressed. "Looks a lot like the ones on my vest."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing the first time I saw you." Scout admitted as she went around to the other side of the bed and crawled on top of the covers. "I think it’s part of the reason I followed you back to your camp."

"How long d'you know we were there?" Daryl asked curiously. He turned around to face her, still sitting on the bed and couldn't help but feel a little weird sitting there chatting like it was a damn slumber party. 

"Close to a week before we ran in to each other." Scout admitted, satisfied at the impressed expression on Daryl's face. "I saw you hunting one morning, walked right underneath where I was sitting in a tree. I let you have the rabbit and get past me before climbing down and following you."

"Hmmpf," Daryl grunted, "Your dad taught that?" 

"Yes, me and my brother. We started tracking and hunting when I was seven. Thought my mom's eyeballs were going to pop right out of her head when he gave me a rifle for my birthday that year. A pink Daisy .22 rifle." Scout used her bath towel to dry her hair as best as she could while they talked. "What about you? Always been good with that stuff or was it something you picked up after the turn?"

"My dad took me and my brother hunting when we were little, one of the few things he taught us to do right." Daryl shrugged, he wasn't used to talking about himself and immediately turned the conversation back to her. "You hungry?"

Scout didn't miss the fact that Daryl didn't want to talk about himself, it was something she realized a long time ago about him. Didn't mean she wasn't curious about him and wouldn't stop asking questions though, especially since she had him to herself for the time being. "Not really."

"Need to eat something." Daryl eyeballed her like an insolent child. "Ain't gonna get better without food."

"Fine. I'll eat, but only if I get to walk around after. Outside." Scout replied, laying out ground rules and grinned when she got her way. Her stomach was growling, but her injuries were starting to throb again, which was making her stomach feel icky. Not wanting to use up the good painkillers, or fall back asleep, she pointed at the aspirin bottle on the night stand next to Daryl and said, "Could you pass me that and the water first though?"

After handing Scout the aspirin and water, Daryl went in to the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Carol in there already cleaning up from breakfast. "Didn't realize it was so late."

"Early bedtime for us, not much to do with the sun going down so early. You hungry? I can make something for you real quick." Carol wiped her hands on a dish towel and headed towards the fridge. "We've got plenty of eggs and there's some bread left."

"Yeah, thanks. Make some for Scout, too." Daryl leaned against the counter and scrubbed his hands over his face. Sleeping hunched over the way he had last night had not provided the best sleep of his night. 

"I heard the shower going, didn't know if it was you or her though. How's she feeling today?" Carol cracked four eggs in a bowl and whisked them to make scrambled eggs. She plopped a dollop of lard in the pan and poured the eggs in. She had to wonder if Daryl had helped Scout take a shower or not; although his hair wasn't wet, so she thought maybe he hadn't.

"Good enough to badger me in to taking her outside after breakfast." Daryl grabbed some glasses, filled them with water and sat them on the table just as Scout came into the kitchen. "Carol's making eggs."

"Yum. Thank you." Scout obediently sat down when Daryl pointed at the chair. "I take it we missed breakfast?"

"Just finished before Daryl came in. Michonne, Sasha and Tyrese are in the living room with Judith, she's being fussy again thanks to cutting teeth. Maggie and Glenn are upstairs and Rick took Carl hunting." Carol plated the eggs and added a piece of bread to each before taking them over to the table. She had been a stay at home mother before the turn and slipped easily back in to the role anytime the group managed to find a safe place to stay. She didn't mind cleaning and cooking when she received appreciation for it, instead of just being told to do so by her husband. While there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't miss her baby girl, Sophia, she could honestly say that she didn't miss Ed at all. "Here you go."

After breakfast, Daryl fulfilled his promise and took Scout outside, but not before making her put her hair in a knitted cap and put on a thick coat. It wasn't too cold, but she did have wet hair and was injured. They walked the perimeter of the fence in silence before she went over to the swing that hung from a large oak tree and sat down. Daryl could tell she was tired, and judging by the expression on her face was in a good deal of pain, but didn't mention it. 

"My dad bought this swing for my mom for one of their anniversaries. They used to sit out here when it was nice and talk for hours." Scout rubbed her hand over the arm rest and fingered at something in the wood. "He carved their initials in here. I always thought it was cheesy, but now...it's nice they had that. Not many people will have something like that now."

Daryl let her talk and leaned against the oak tree beside her. There was a wistful expression on her face and he knew she was thinking about her parents. He couldn't remember a time when his parents were in love. Hell, he couldn't remember them even being civil to one another. Nothing but screaming in his house when his mother was alive. Screaming and hitting. 

"You think there's any hope for us?" Scout asked without looking at Daryl, then realized what she'd asked. "For society, not us, like me and you."

"Dunno. World's gone to shit, don't really know if it's worth saving." Daryl admitted grimly. "But we keep trying, hoping. Somebody else's gotta be out there trying to survive, too."

"Hope, pfft." Scout scoffed, "That's just another four letter word nowadays. It's hard to look at life now and be hopeful; at least for me."

Daryl kicked his boot in the loose dirt around the tree and thought about the day they'd escaped the prison, when he'd said something along the same lines to Beth. He didn't know how or exactly when his outlook had begun to change, but she'd made him see the good that was left in the world. "I dunno. If you don't have hope, what's the point of living? 'Least, that's what someone told me once before."

Scout wondered who, had a notion, but wasn't sure. She nodded, neither in agreement or disagreement, but didn't say anything in response. She just sat on the swing and stared at the woods for so long that Daryl gave up and sat down on the ground, with his back leaned against the tree. Scout started to offer for him to sit with her, but stopped herself. She didn't want to share the swing with anyone and not have the same connection her parent's had had while doing so. She knew it was juvenile and petty, but that was the way she felt nonetheless. They sat like that, her in the swing and Daryl next to her on the ground, until Rick and Carl emerged from them a while later, carrying a string with a few fish tied to it. 

"Failed at the squirrels, but found some fishing equipment out back. Managed to catch enough for dinner tonight." Rick announced as the crossed the yard. "Carl caught more than I did though. Never been too good at fishing."

"Dad says I have to learn to clean them though." Carl held up his catch proudly. Scout could only imagine Rick enjoyed spending time with his son and doing the normal father-son activities instead of killing the infected. "Your head looks like it hurts."

"That's because it does." Scout smiled and pulled up the edge of her hat so he could see the full effect, "Don't hit yourself in the head with a rock unless you want to look like this." 

"Carl, go on up to the house, just put the fish in the bucket by the porch." Rick handed Carl his rod, too, and motioned for him to go on. "I need to talk to Scout and Daryl." He waited until Carl rounded the side of the house before he continued. "I wanted to apologize for the situation with the basement. I was wrong, I admit it. I could've handled things better than that."

"Yes you could have, but I do understand that you were just protecting your family. I get that. Doesn't mean I am happy about the way it was handled, but I get it." Scout stuffed her hands in her pockets to warm them up, and said, "That's all I have. I was just protecting myself."

"I get that, too. We've just had a bad experience that ended up causing a lot of loss for our group that started out with a locked door. So, for what it's worth, I am sorry.” Rick paused for a breath before continuing. “We discussed food situations last night. We don't want to leave you empty handed when we leave, so we're going to set a ration for anything we can't catch. Daryl's going to go hunting soon, too." 

"I appreciate that. As soon as I can I intend to get back out there, too. It's deer season and we don't want to let the opportunity pass to bag a few more of those. I'm going to head back in." Scout eased off the swing and when Daryl moved towards her said, "I'm fine, head's just starting to hurt again...going to go lay down for a while. You don't have to come watch me sleep."

Without waiting for him to reply, Scout turned and headed back up to the house, slipping in through the back door and in to her bedroom before anyone noticed she'd returned. Once in her bedroom, she took off the coat, hat and boots before shaking out a painkiller from the bottle; breaking it in half this time. She didn't want to sleep until tomorrow. 

Outside, Rick asked Daryl, "You tell her about Maggie?" He figured Daryl hadn't, but thought he'd ask just in case.

"Hell no. I ain't breaking that news to her. She ain't taking my head off." Daryl stepped away from the tree and asked, "How long you gonna wait though? She'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Might as well wait and see if Maggie is actually pregnant before we break the news." Rick wondered how to ask Daryl if there was any chance Scout could be pregnant, but decided he didn't want to get in to that conversation. He wasn't curious enough to piss off or embarrass Daryl. "If she is though, we're going to have to consider going on a run. She's going to need stuff that Scout isn't likely to have around; bottles, pacifiers, stuff like that."

"If she's knocked up, we'll take care of her like we did Lori. Little Ass Kicker don't got a lot, but she ain't lacking either." Daryl looked back up at the house and couldn't help but once again think about the lack of protection used during his woodland tryst with Scout. He'd never thought much about having kids before and wasn't really sure he'd want to risk having one with the way the world was now. However, if they'd messed up and gotten pregnant, he'd be there for Scout and the baby, there was no question about that. "I'm gonna go out, see what I can kill. Keep an eye on her?" 

Daryl didn't need to specify who he wanted Rick to keep an eye on, that much was crystal clear to Rick. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! Hope you guys like the update.


	15. Chapter 15

A couple of hours later, Daryl returned with a couple of furry animals and one turkey to add to their food collection. Rick and Carl were still outside cleaning the fish, taking entirely too long in Daryl's opinion, but that made it easy to toss down his kill for them to clean as well. "Might as well clean these if you're learning." 

"Alright. We just finished these. Hand 'em to Carol, will you." Rick took the wildlife from Daryl and in turn, handed him a bowl with the freshly cleaned trout. "She hasn't been out of the room yet. Don't know if she's awake or not though."

Daryl nodded before heading up the steps in to the house. Carol was in the kitchen, seemed like she was always in there lately. Maybe it was just the time of day he ended up in there since it seemed he was only in the kitchen for meal time, or maybe she just felt more at home there. "Rick sent these in. They're working on what I caught."

"Just in time for dinner." She exclaimed as she took the bowl from Daryl and sat it on the counter. Carol watched him closely as he put his bow on the hook by the door and added his jacket. She knew he had to be exhausted. Dark circles smudged the area beneath his eyes, which were weary and filled with worry. "You need rest."

"You ain't my mom." Daryl walked across the kitchen towards Scout's bedroom without looking back at Carol. He didn't want to deal with her nagging right now.

"You're right. I'm actually here and care about your wellbeing." Carol retorted. She knew about Daryl's childhood, or at least the parts he had been willing to share with her; none of them pleasant. "You won't be any good to her if you don't take care of yourself, too."

He turned to look at Carol and found nothing but love and worry staring back at him. They'd been closer at one point than they were now; their weakened relationship the result of poor judgment on her part back at the prison and the emotional solitary confinement he'd imposed on himself after Beth's death. Despite both of those things though, Daryl cared for Carol, too, and still considered her to be one of the closest friends he'd ever had. No, she was more than a friend. Carol was family. 

"Just promise me you'll sleep somewhere other than that chair tonight." Carol requested. "I'll sit in there with her if it means you get some rest." She didn't bother waiting for his reply at the offer, just turned around and started preparing dinner. "I'm here for you if you need to talk." She could feel his eyes on her back and wondered if he would actually confide in her once again. A few breaths passed between them before the soft click of the door let her know that he'd went back to Scout's bedroom. 

Scout was sleeping peacefully when he entered the room, the soft light of the final rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds and softened the injuries to her face. Daryl stood at the foot of the bed and watched her sleep and for a moment he couldn't place the nagging feeling of Deja vu, when it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. Either due to the peaceful expression on her face or the way the light was landing on her or both, but for the briefest of moment's she reminded him of Beth. Daryl shook off the strange feeling and chalked it up to being tired and the fact both she and Beth had an injury in the same place; both had the same garish stitching across their pale, smooth skin. Maybe he really was more exhausted than he thought.

He stepped in to the bathroom to wash his face and hands. When he returned to the bedroom, Scout was beginning to stir. Daryl stopped in his tracks when she rolled over to pin him with her bi-colored gaze. 

"I can't seem to stay awake very long." Scout sat up and stretched, wondering how long she'd been out this time. "You coming or going?"

"Just got back." Daryl pulled the armchair closer towards the head of the bed instead of the foot and sat down. He stared at Scout, the soft angelic look on her face had disappeared; he was no longer reminded of Beth. "Head injuries take it out of you. Sleep'll help you heal faster." Daryl watched as she swallowed some aspirin and gulped down another glass of water. They needed to talk, seriously talk, but he didn't know how to broach the subject. Awkwardly, he chewed on his thumbnail for a moment before clearing his throat to speak. "Um, can we talk?"

"Fairly certain that's what we were doing." Scout playfully responded, before fully paying attention to the serious look on Daryl's face. With a great deal of effort, none of which she let on to, Scout managed to pull herself upright in to a sitting position. "What is it? Has something happened?"

"No. Well, yeah, technically, I guess." Daryl fumbled around a bit before he managed to get his thoughts together. "Wanted to talk about what happened in the woods...between us." 

"There's nothing to talk about." Scout dipped her head and suddenly grew a great fascination with her fingernails. What had suddenly brought on this need to talk about them having sex? Daryl certainly didn't appear to be the type of man who normally talked about it afterwards. "It happened. There's no need to hash it out."

"No, I know that...don't need to talk about that. We just..." Daryl suddenly felt like a fumbling teenager getting the sex talk from his father; an experience that he had thankfully avoided. "Protection. We didn't use none." He finally just spit it out and let it lay where it landed.

"Oh!" Scout replied with obvious shock and recognition. She hadn't considered their lack of protection and honestly wasn't too worried about it. Of course, Daryl didn’t know that or why she wasn't worried. "It's ok. I...I can't have children. So, assuming you're clean otherwise, we're good. No baby worries."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Another layer of guilt landed directly on top of the accumulated amount that was steadily piling up at this point. 

"Well, how would you? It's not like we covered medical issues prior to hooking up. It's ok." Scout took a sip of water, more out of a need to take a mental breather than actual thirst. "I got sick in college. Uterine cancer. Tried treatment, but it was too far advanced before we caught it and ended up having to have a hysterectomy when I was twenty-one. Never saw it as a blessing until all of this happened though."

The dots connected in Daryl's head and he realized that the scar on her stomach had been from the removal surgery. He'd never considered having kids, but he hadn't had the choice taken away from him if he had decided it was something he wanted. Of course, now he wondered how well the news would go over if it turned out Maggie was in fact pregnant. "Sorry to bring it up. Was just worried about what we did...the thought..." Daryl trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"That was about eight years ago, I think that’s about right. I've dealt with my demons about not being able to have children." Scout said quietly, and for the most part it was true. She'd struggled with it a lot at first. She'd always wanted several kids and knew that her parents looked forward to being grandparents one day. After a year or so of self-pity, Scout had managed to get past it; only letting it upset her again when her fiancé had stated her inability to have children as one the reason he cheated on her. Lance had been an asshole from the start, it just took Scout catching him with his pants down and a bullshit excuse to make her see it. Of course, the world had went to shit sometime around half a bottle of tequila later and she never had to worry about him again. 

Silence filled the room after that, neither of them knowing what to say now. Scout bit the bullet after several agonizing moments of silence. "What about you? You ever want kids?"

"Ain't thought about it much." To be honest, it wasn't that he hadn't thought about it and more that before the outbreak he had never met anyone he'd want to stay with long enough to have children. "Ain't so sure babies are the best thing to have now anyways." And that was the truth. While he loved Little Ass Kicker and would do anything in the world for her or to keep her safe, that didn't mean he thought the world as it was now was the best place to raise a kid. 

"Yeah, I get that. Especially with the way your group has been on the road so much. I'm amazed that Judith has fared so well. I doubt she would have had your group not been so tight." Scout took another drink of water and sat the glass back on the table.

"No doubt. Lost some, gained some, but for the most part we...this group... been together a long time." Daryl thought about what she'd said about her illness and remembered what Scout had said about her sister dying before she had gotten sick. "So, you got sick right after your sister died?"

"Yeah, she did. Shot during a robbery. Maggie tell you that?" Scout didn't remember mentioning her sister’s death, but then again, she'd been in and out of consciousness the past two days. 

"Nah, you did. Meds must've had you out of it by then." Daryl wondered what else Scout had shared with Maggie or the others that he didn't know about and felt an odd twinge of jealousy at the thought. 

"Oh, ok. Makes sense." Scout didn't know what had brought out the chattiness in Daryl, but she wondered if it could work to her advantage. "Tell me about your family."

"Ain't much to tell. Mostly just me and my brother." Daryl sat in silence for a moment and Scout could tell that he didn't intend to elaborate on his family situation any further. He did, however, appear to be deep in thought, which made her wonder what was on his mind. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long, but what he had to say wasn't what she expected. From him, anyway. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you go apologizing for the whole basement issue, too." Scout sighed exasperatedly. While the whole situation had been handled wrong and she had ended up injured, there was nothing a barrage of apologies could do to fix it. "Look. The whole thing was messed up. There was wrong on both sides. And yes, it could have been handled better, but we can't change that now."

"I know that. Don't mean I don't feel bad about it." Daryl leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees; his hands dangling down between. "If I didn't pull my bow you wouldn't have ran."

His guilt was plain as day; written clearly across his face and set deep in his eyes. "I made my own decision. It was a sucky one, sure, but you aren't responsible for my mistakes any more than I am for yours. I'll admit, I was pissed and upset when you stuck your damn bow in my face, but I understand why you did it. I mean, I don't know what the whole thing is about the locked door and all, but I know why you chose Rick's side. He's your family. And out here...in this world, with the way shit is...you gotta stick with who you know you can trust. It's ok."

"Yeah," Daryl nodded and let the issue drop. He still felt bad about how things had turned out, but in the end everything had worked out better than expected. The room was silent again and something he had wondered since their first night at Scout's place popped in to his brain. "Hey, who names their little girl Scout anyway?" Sure, he’d nicknamed Judith “Little Ass Kicker” at first, but even he knew she’d get a real name, too.

"It's a nickname! My dad started calling me that when I was little. Don’t know why, but it stuck." Scout laughed, maybe a little too hard because her head and ribs ached instantly, but laughing felt so good it didn't bother her too much. "You really thought my parents named me Scout? It's better than my real name. Bleh. Laura Jean Grace, at your service." She jokingly extended her hand to introduce herself and was pleased when Daryl shook it and laughed right along with her. "There was no way in hell I was sticking with that nonsense."

"Laura Jean," He muttered under his breath as if trying to make sense of it. "Nah, don't seem like no Laura Jean." Curiosity satisfied, Daryl leaned back against the chair and laughed again. "Sounds like one of them pageant winner names."

"Well..." Scout grimaced when Daryl chuckled. "There was once a time. Miss Southern Peach, sir." She had held more than one title, but there was no point in counting them all off. Thankfully, she'd escaped the pageant circuit when she headed off to college; which had been paid for with scholarship winnings from the pageants. "What? It paid my way to school."

"Just don't seem like a tiara and fancy dress kinda girl." Daryl tried to picture her in a pageant and while he had no trouble envisioning her in the swimsuit portion of the whole fiasco, he couldn't quite place her in the actual pageant. 

"Yeah, it was the work of my mom. She asked for Miss America Barbie, but got Guns and Ammo Barbie, instead." Scout thought about the shelves of trophies and crowns in her bedroom upstairs and wondered who was staying in her old room. She was pretty sure her gowns were tucked away in a closet somewhere, but doubted there was any use for them unless they were going to put on Miss Apocalypse America. "What about you? Who were you in your past life?"

"No one important. Didn't do much of nothing." He had floated around from job to job, picking up work when he needed it, never settling on one thing. "Mostly worked on cars, motorcycles, but that's about it."

"I always wanted to learn that kind of stuff, but between everything else going on in my life I never got around to it. My brother was pretty handy in the garage though, taught me basics like how to change oil and tires. Stuff like that." Scout felt tears start to well up in her eyes at the thought of her brother and took a deep breath to try and calm herself down; crying wasn't going to help her head feel any better that was certain. She had, however, taken too deep of a breath and was suddenly plagued by a searing pain on her left side. Grimacing in pain, she froze and tried doing a series of short and quick breaths instead. "Holy mother..."

"What's wrong?!" Daryl was out of his chair instantly, hovering over her. 

"Pretty sure I busted up some ribs, too. Maybe they're just bruised because they don't hurt all the time." The pain eased up a little, so Scout laid back down to take the pressure off of them. "Hurts like a bitch though."

"Let me see" He asked, reaching over to the night stand before she could even answer. When she started to object, Daryl gave her a look that plain as day said not to argue with him. After he helped her lay back down on the bed, Daryl muttered a curse under his breath when Scout lifted her shirt up. From just below her left breast to slightly below her last rib was painted the color of a ripe plum. "Shit. How far d’you fall?"

"I don't know for sure," Scout shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Maybe fifteen feet? Twenty? It was a pretty long way down, not overly steep, but kinda far and rocky. How bad does it look?"

"Not good. Moving around hurt or just breathing?" Daryl motioned for her to put her shirt back down as he perched on the edge of the bed. "Want a pill?"

"No. Thanks though. I don't want to go back to sleep." Scout waved off the medicine and closed her eyes. "Once I'm up moving around it's not that bad, just can't breathe too deep or make any sudden movements. Think it's just bruised badly. I'll be ok, just need to lay here for a bit and not move." 

Daryl watched Scout lay there and breathe slowly for a moment, before reclaiming his position in the chair. He was pretty sure the damn thing was going to have a permanent indention in the shape of his ass by the time Scout healed fully. Her face was scrunched in a grimace and Daryl felt sorry for her. He'd had his fair share of broken and bruised ribs and knew damn well what a pain in the ass they were. Her road to recovery was going to take a bit longer than they had previously thought thanks to the ribs. There was no way she would be able to go out and hunt anytime soon if they were actually broken.

Scout skipped having dinner with everyone, opting for a piece of bread and a glass of water to take a painkiller with instead. It had taken a great deal of badgering, but she had finally talked Daryl in to going in to the dining room and having a decent meal with the group rather than staying cooped up in the bedroom with her. Her head and ribs were hurting something awful and all she wanted to do was take some medicine, crawl in bed and go to sleep. 

She woke up a little while later needing to use the restroom and wondered how long she had slept this time. Reaching under the pillow to locate the flashlight she had stashed there earlier, Scout eased her way out from beneath the covers; only flicking on the flashlight once she was ready to head in to the bathroom. It was then she noticed that Daryl was once again asleep in that damned chair. She had told him to go pull out the couch bed and get a good night’s sleep. He had to be the most infuriatingly stubborn man she had ever met; not that Scout had any room right to criticize anyone for being bullheaded. 

“Daryl,” Scout reached out and rubbed his shoulder, trying to wake him up as gently as possible. When he didn’t respond, she poked him in the shoulder and tried again, this time with a slightly louder voice. “Daryl, wake up.” 

“What?” Daryl mumbled with his eyes still closed, hoping the annoyance would go away and let him sleep. When the voice and the poking refused to desist, he cracked open one eye and found Scout glaring down at him. “What’s wrong? Need something?”

“I’m fine. I thought you were going to bed on the pullout and stop sleeping in this chair.” Scout poked the headrest in aggravation. “You can’t sleep in here, in this stupid chair, forever. It’s not good for you.”

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.” Daryl folded his arms across his chest, leaned his head back against the edge and closed his eyes. “Ain’t gonna get any rest with you poking at me.”

“I’m going to the bathroom. You’d better not be in that chair when I get back.” Scout glared at him, which wasn’t effective at all in the darkened room; especially since the beam of the flashlight was pointed at Daryl. “Or I’m going to harass you more.”

Daryl didn’t respond. He simply waited until the bathroom door clicked shut before pushing himself out of the chair, taking a few steps and laying down on the floor. Out of sheer exhaustion, he was out cold and snoring softly by the time Scout came out of the bathroom.

Scout shined her flashlight at the chair and had a momentary feeling of success until the beam crossed over Daryl’s boots poking out from the edge of the bed. Peeking over the bed railing, Scout wasn’t actually surprised to find Daryl fast asleep on the floor. She chalked it up to a partial win and made a mental note to add the stipulation that next time he get out of the chair and in to a bed. Sighing, Scout pulled the extra blanket off of her bed and used it to cover him up, also adding a pillow next to his head in hopes that he’d wake up and use it at some point. Scout watched him sleep for a moment and a soft smile lit up her face when he mumbled incoherently in his sleep. Finally, she crawled back in bed, flicked off the flashlight and tucked it back beneath the pillow. It was a long time before she could fall back asleep; her brain was too busy, plagued with wishful thoughts that had no chance of coming true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably annoyed some folks with this chapter, but I just want you guys to know there is a method to my madness. I had to constantly remind people of that when I wrote Buffy fanfiction. :) Thanks for the reviews and kudos!


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Daryl woke up by rolling head first in to the hope chest at the foot of Scout’s bed. He mumbled a string of curses and rubbed at the spot on his forehead and rolled back over on to his back. He vaguely recalled moving from the chair to the floor, but he certainly did not remember covering himself up with a blanker or getting a pillow. Daryl wasn’t accustomed to people worrying about his welfare, even something as trivial as covering him up with a blanket. Sure, they’d stuck him in a bed with covers back at the farm, but he’d just been shot in the head and stuck in the side with an arrow. This time it wasn’t about injuries, but a consideration of his comfort and that notion was something Daryl wasn’t used to and wondered if he ever could get used to it.

Daryl stood up and stretched, the floor was a place he was more familiar with and far more comfortable than sleeping in the chair, but that didn’t mean his body agreed with it. He took the time to fold the blanket and sat it, along with the pillow, on top of the chest. Scout was still asleep, laying on her uninjured side with her head barely poking out from beneath the comforter; her dark hair spilled across the pillows, contrasting sharply against the stark white bedding. Daryl crept quietly out of the bedroom in the hopes that she wouldn’t wake up. He had promised Rick he’d go hunting today and he wasn’t one to break a promise. Daryl slipped from the house, bow in hand, and disappeared in to the woods before anyone else stirred in the house. 

Daryl had fully intended to go out, kill some animals and return home fairly quickly. However, once he was outside he found himself inspecting the area of the fence where Scout had gotten tangled. From there, Daryl ended up following the trail she’d undoubtedly been on that night as there were still a few tale tell clues on and around the beaten path; broken limbs, faint footsteps and smears of dried blood told him exactly which way she had come from. He didn’t like to think about how difficult it must have been for her to make it back to the house that night, or how things could have gone had she not woken up and gotten out of there. 

Daryl walked for so long that he had about decided that he had followed the wrong trail and was about to give up when he heard the sound of water. Continuing on maybe a hundred yards, he came to a small clearing in the woods and the bodies of the walkers that had undoubtedly been the ones Scout had killed. The half walker was nowhere in sight and he wondered how far it could have crawled by now. He stepped over the body of what appeared to have been a mailman at some point in its life and approached the embankment Scout had tumbled down. She had been right, while it wasn’t overly steep it was a long trip to the bottom; littered heavily with rocks. 

Stepping away from the embankment, Daryl surveyed his surroundings in search of what had led him on this trip in the first place. On the second scan of the area, the sunlight glinted off something partially hidden by the brush and he snatched it up quickly; as if there was anyone out here to steal it away from him first. He had found Scout’s hunting knife, the one she had mentioned to him that her father had given her for her birthday before the turn. He turned it over in his hand a few times to check for any damage and found none. It was caked in dirt and blood, but that could be easily remedied. Daryl tucked the knife between his belt and pants and headed back in the direction of the house to start hunting.

Tracking down Scout’s knife ended up cutting a large swath of time out of his day. Daryl did, however, manage to bring in a decent amount of kill before it got too dark to hunt. He turned the five squirrels and one turkey over to Carl, thankful that he didn’t have to clean his kill tonight since Rick had determined his son was the official cleaner for the time being. When he entered the kitchen, dinner preparation was in full swing with Carol and Maggie bustling around. He managed a barely audible greeting and turned to head down the hallway to Scout’s bedroom when he heard Maggie calling to him.

“Scout’s in the living room.” Maggie informed him as she moved on to peeling potatoes. “She’s been playing board games with Carl most of the day.” 

“Thanks.” Daryl muttered as he turned and headed towards the living room. While he was happy that Scout was actually out of her bedroom and associating with the rest of his family, Daryl was also a little perturbed because she needed to be getting rest. When he entered the living room, Daryl found Scout sitting on the floor with her back leaned against the couch watching Michonne play with Judith. 

Scout felt someone watching her and turned towards the doorway to find Daryl leaning against it. “Hey there.” She smiled brightly and motioned for him to join her. “How’d the hunting go? You’ve been gone a long time.” Scout didn’t want to admit to herself just how much she had missed having him around.

“Did alright.” Not being one to brag, Daryl left it at that and took a seat next to her on the floor. He pulled her hunting knife out from his belt and handed out to Scout. “Found this though.” 

“Oh my…how did you…I thought I’d lost it for good.” Scout’s eyes watered with happiness as she inspected the knife. Smiling brightly, she turned towards him and said, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Daryl ducked his head and shrugged. “Said your dad gave it to you. Wanted you to have it back.”

“It is something. Doing that had to take up a lot of your day. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Scout chewed on her lip nervously and considered her next move carefully. After a moments silence, she leaned over and brushed a kiss across Daryl’s cheek and whispered, “This means the world to me.”

Later that night at bedtime, Daryl was in Scout’s bedroom occupying the chair once more while she was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. When she came out, Scout pinned him with an amused smile and said, “Am I going to have to burn that chair so you will stop sleeping in it?”

“Slept in less comfortable places.” Daryl replied with all seriousness. He watched as she slowly eased in to the bed with a grimace of pain on her face, but didn’t offer to help her since she’s all but yelled at him earlier for it claiming she couldn’t depend on him forever. She had taken a painkiller before going in to the bathroom that clearly hadn’t taken effect yet. 

“Just because you’ve slept in worse places doesn’t mean you have to now. The pullout couch is surprisingly comfortable.” Scout adjusted the covers and pulled the comforter up to her chin. The weather outside was growing colder much faster than it had in recent years and she figured they would have to resort to using the fireplaces sooner than expected. She watched him as he got up and flopped down on the floor again, at least taking his boots off this time. “The floor? Really?”

“It’s the floor or the chair. Ain’t leaving you back here alone with a head injury.” Daryl replied, crooking his elbow under his head. 

Scout grabbed a pillow and tossed it down to him. “There. You’ll have to pull the blanket off the bed though. She watched as the top blanket slid slowly off the bed and had to physically fight the urge to tell him to just get in bed with her. 

Daryl heard her moving around and was about to call out to see if she needed something when the lantern turned off. The room was almost pitch black as the moon wasn’t full enough to do any more than give off a faint pale glow in the bedroom. He laid there awake for a while, unable to sleep, his mind heavy with thoughts, and figured the medication had already sent Scout in to dream land. He was surprised when she called out to him. “Yeah?”

“Tell me a story.” Scout asked, her voice heavy with sleepiness. 

“A story? Don’t know no damn bedtime stories.” Daryl replied with a roll of his eyes. He could tell by the slur in her voice that Scout had to be fighting the effects of the medication.

“Doesn’t have to be a bedtime story, just tell me something about you. Something with a happy ending.” Scout gingerly rolled over to her right side and tried to get comfortable. She had always been a left side sleeper, but the recent tumble and injuries were definitely putting a kink in to that position for the time being. Daryl was silent and she wondered if he was just ignoring her, hoping she’d just forget about it and go to sleep. When he finally replied, her heart sank.

“Have to get back to you when I have one. Now go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I hope you guys enjoy this one. :)


	17. Chapter 17

The next few days went by with more of the same…lots of boredom. Scout was ready to pull out her hair from being cooped up. Sure, she took walks around out in the yard while everyone else was busy doing whatever chore they’d come up with that day. Nights were spent in the living room playing board games or cards in front of the fire and while Scout could say her poker game had improved drastically, she was seriously on the verge of a mental breakdown if she didn’t get out of and away from the house.

“Where do you think you’re going” Daryl asked Scout as he put his boots on while sitting in the floor at the foot of her bed. He eyeballed her outfit and knew exactly what she thought she was going to do that day. “Ain’t happening.”

“Didn’t ask your permission.” Scout shot back. “I can’t stay in this house any longer. I can’t. I will go absolutely freaking crazy if I have to stay in here today. So, either I come with you or I go on my own, your choice.” 

She certainly didn’t need to be out wandering the woods by herself so Daryl really wasn’t left with much of a choice. He could, however, set some ground rules. “Fine. You can come with me, but the bow is staying here.”

Scout started to argue, but since she knew there was no way her ribs would allow her to bow hunt, she conceded. In all honesty, she was just happy she was going to get out of the house. Giddy as a kid on Christmas morning, she shoved her pistol in its holster and strapped on her hunting knife and all but flew out of the bedroom. “Good morning!” She said to everyone merrily as she went in to the kitchen.

There were a chorus of replies, but Rick was the one that asked, “Hitting the painkillers a bit early today, huh?”

“No, she’s just damned pleased with herself for badgering me in to taking her with me today.” Daryl grumbled as he stepped around where Scout was standing and took a seat. “Stubborn ass.”

“Kinda like calling the kettle black?” Scout replied without skipping a beat. “You’re more stubborn than my granddaddy’s old mule.”

“She’s got you there.” Rick chuckled and took a bite of eggs. As everyone dug in to their breakfasts, except Maggie who was upstairs not feeling well, Rick looked around the table and couldn’t help but feel happy. It had been a long time since they could just sit down for a meal like normal people and not worry about what could happen…well, worry too much. He just prayed this feeling could last this time. 

After several hours in the woods, Daryl and Scout returned home by early afternoon loaded down with turkeys, having had the luck to come across two flocks during their outing. Upon their arrival, they handed over their bounty to Carl, who looked less than thrilled at having to clean four turkeys. Daryl took pity on him and said he’d clean two of them himself, claiming he didn’t need to get out of the practice.

While the two of them started the cleaning process, Scout excused herself and headed around the back to go in to the house. When she rounded the corner, she saw Maggie over by the fence past the chicken coop leaning over with her hands on her knees. Glenn had mentioned Maggie hadn’t been feeling well that morning, but hadn’t seemed overly concerned about it so Scout had just assumed she had something like a headache. Curious, Scout walked over to see if she was alright. “Hey, Maggie, you ok?”

Maggie stood up and looked over to find Scout approaching and started to say something, but was hit with another wave of nausea that caused her to double over once again. She hadn’t been able to eat very much the past couple of days and therefore, didn’t have anything in her stomach to throw up. She was beginning to think that not being able to throw up was worse than actually throwing up. “I’m ok. Just a little sick to my stomach.” She managed to get out between breaths.

“Are you sure? Because, not to be mean, but you’re not looking so great.” Scout looked at Maggie with an expression completely full of doubt. Judging by Maggie’s pale, slightly green around the gills expression, along with the dry heaves, there was clearly something wrong. “Maybe you need to go inside and rest.”

“I think maybe you’re right.” Maggie conceded weakly. She had been nauseous for the past two days, throwing up whenever she ate and dry heaving when that failed. There was no doubt in Maggie’s mind that she was pregnant, but she didn’t want to be the one to break the news to Scout, wanting to talk to the others first. “Maybe it was just something I ate. I’m sure I will feel better later.”

“Something you ate?” Scout inquired. Everyone ate the same meals around here, if this was a case of food poisoning then they were all going to have a rough time. Since she and Daryl had skipped lunch and only eaten breakfast with the group, of which Maggie had been missing due to not feeling well, then it stood to reason that whatever made her feel bad was eaten at dinner last night. Scout personally felt fine, albeit a little tired from the hunt and her injuries were aching, but otherwise there were no issues. Surely, if Maggie was already feeling the effects of bad food, then wouldn’t everyone else be showing symptoms, too? The two of them had just made it on to the back porch when the answer hit her like a ton of bricks. Scout stopped in her tracks, turned to Maggie and stated, “You’re pregnant.”

Maggie stared at Scout, unsure of what to say. Clearly what Scout had said was less of a question and more of a statement, so there was no point in confirming what she already knew. Nodding, Maggie sat down on a nearby chair and nodded, “We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure, but I really can’t deny it at this point.”

“Everybody knew,” Scout crossed to the other side of the screened in porch and let the ‘but me’ part of her statement slip away. Everyone in the household had known Maggie was pregnant and purposefully kept it from her. Everyone, meaning Daryl. It was that realization that hurt the most. Well, almost, because now Scout had to live in the same house with two babies; neither of which belonged to her. Scout blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in and ran her hands through her hair. “Well then, glad to finally know.” Her tone of voice was less sarcastic than she had meant it to be. 

“I’m sorry, we really weren’t trying to keep you in the dark. We planned on telling you the moment we were sure.” Maggie desperately wished someone else was out here on the patio with them, but she was left alone to deal with Scout’s obvious disappointment. “I promise, we won’t stay any longer than we have to. As soon as me and the baby can travel, we’ll leave. I swear.”

And there it was, like a stab in the heart, the real reason for hiding from her was laid out on the table. They thought she would be angry because Maggie was pregnant, that having a newborn, would keep them from leaving sooner than they had originally thought. Sure, she had been less than thrilled at the prospect of having a house full of strangers descend on her private sanctuary, but over the past couple of months Scout thought they had realized that their presence no longer bothered her the way it once had. Had they honestly thought she was such a horrible person that she wouldn’t let them stay long enough for the baby to be strong enough, old enough, to travel safely? Scout stood up and motioned for Maggie to do the same, “Ok then. Well, why don’t you go get that rest we discussed?”

“You aren’t mad?” Maggie asked, honestly surprised. 

“Taken by surprise, yes, but angry? No.” Scout confessed as they entered the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty. “I can see why you guys wanted to wait to tell me. No sense in bringing it up until you were sure. I get it.” Scout ushered Maggie to the hallway and motioned for her to go on upstairs. “Go on and lay down. We’ll talk about it more later.”

Maggie followed orders and marched upstairs, still surprised that Scout had not been more upset. The way Rick and Daryl had talked earlier, Maggie had been a hundred percent sure they were all going to be booted out on their butts in the cold. The stress of not letting Scout find out about the possible pregnancy, along with the so-called morning sickness which seemed just hit her at all hours of the day, had not blended well with the anxiety she was already experiencing in regards to the pregnancy herself. She had witnessed firsthand how horribly being pregnant and having a baby in the world as it was now could go. As she laid down on the bed, flashes of Lori danced through her mind; her struggles during pregnancy, the constant need to find more food to make sure she ate enough for her and the baby, the difficult childbirth and finally, Lori dying while she had clung tightly to Judith. Maggie just didn’t know if she was strong enough to get through the pregnancy and childbirth, much less raising a child with the way the world was now.

Downstairs, Scout headed to her bedroom with the intention of washing up after being in the woods all day. However, once she was there, she ended up grabbing the blanket Daryl had been using at night and curling up in the chair he was so fond of. She didn’t want to be upset by Maggie’s pregnancy, but she was. Scout had known for years that she couldn’t have any children and until today had been fairly certain she had dealt with that knowledge. So, if that was the case, then why was she letting someone else’s pregnancy tear her up inside? 

Lost in thought, Scout never knew anyone had come in to the bedroom until she heard the door click shut. She jumped slightly in surprise and turned to look over her shoulder and found Daryl standing behind her with a concerned expression on his face. Embarrassed, she wiped away the tears that were only partially dried on her cheeks and sniffled. “Hey.”

Instantly concerned, Daryl crouched in front of her and asked, “What’s wrong? You hurting? Knew you should've stayed home." 

Scout opened her mouth to reply, to convince him that nothing was wrong, but all she managed to do was work up a fresh set of tears. With watery eyes, she stared at him and several breaths passed between them before she finally replied with a quiet voice. “Maggie’s pregnant.”

Daryl didn’t know how to respond. Pain he was fully prepared to deal with, physical pain that was. Emotional pain? Hell, he didn’t even know how to deal with his own emotional pain, much less someone else’s. There was once a time when faced with this situation he would have gotten up and left the room, but now…after everything he’d been through the past couple of years, everything he had learned and experienced? He was no longer the callous man he once was. Carol had taught him that he was better than who he thought he was and Beth had taught him that he was a good person and worthy of love. Now, Daryl was someone who cared about others feelings and couldn’t stand to watch someone he cared for suffer; physically or emotionally. Now, he did what the Daryl of his youth would scoff at and call him a pussy for. Now, he reached out to offer comfort, sympathy, a shoulder to cry on. Now, he at least tried.

Scout didn’t ask any questions or offer any resistance when Daryl opened his arms and reached out for her. Instead, she willingly went to him, falling in to his arms. She relished the feel of Daryl’s arms around her; the strength of his hold and the warmth that radiated form his body equally providing comfort. They ended up sinking to the floor with her curled up against him, her head on his shoulder and one leg across his lap, as he held her tightly until she was all cried out. Emotionally exhausted, she reluctantly pulled away from his hold after staying there longer than she had ever intended and said, “Sorry for blubbering all over you.” Sniffling, she used the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her eyes. 

“It’s alright,” Daryl mumbled, almost incompressible, as he ducked his head and shrugged as though comforting her hadn’t been a big deal. “Been a rough week.”

Scout was thankful Daryl didn’t bring up the real reason she was crying; she barely wanted to think about the reasons behind her sob fest, much less discuss them with Daryl. Instead, Scout stood up and headed towards the bathroom to wash her face and blow her nose. Before she closed the door, Scout looked back and made eye contact with Daryl, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos. :) Hope you guys like the update!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling generous and decided to post another chapter today. :) Hope ya'll like.

That night before dinner, Rick pulled Scout aside to talk to her about Maggie’s pregnancy after he had been all but mowed down by Glenn the moment he stepped back inside the house. “I’ve been told you know about our situation.”

“I have.” Scout informed him with a nod. “And, while I had some issues at first, I think we’ll manage. Ya’ll are welcome to stay as long as you want…need to.”

“I appreciate that.” Rick sighed in relief and smiled as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react knowing we were going to need to bother you for a few more months.”

“You understand she’ll need supplies, right? I don’t have all the things she needs. I certainly don’t have anything for a newborn. We’re going to have to make a run at some point.” Scout dreaded the thought of a scavenging run, they were risky and would require a long journey in to town. And, she couldn’t exactly not go with them since she not only knew the way, but had access to several places that might hold items that they would need. 

“You’re right. Daryl and I have already talked about making a run in to the nearest town in a month or so. Maggie’s not far along and I think we can hold off for a while.” Rick scrubbed his hand over his beard as he thought about the items they would need to locate. “We need medical supplies; scalpel, clamps, stuff like that.”

“I’ve got a medic kit downstairs that has a lot of that stuff inside. We might be good there, especially since I know the hospital was hit the worst, and early on. I’m not sure what all would be left. There are a couple of doctor’s offices we could check though.” Scout made a mental note to make a list of all the doctor’s in town, maybe the pediatricians and veterinarians hadn’t been hit too hard yet. “It’s about a thirty mile trip in to town and then back. My brother’s old house is in between there and here, his wife would have put away all of Olivia’s baby things in the attic so we can check there first. His truck was in the garage last time I was there. If it’s still there we could use it, he usually kept extra jugs of gasoline around in the barn.”

“Good. We can bring back more if we have a vehicle. Then it’s settled, we’ll go on a run in a month or two. That’ll give you time to heal up fully and plenty of time to make a list of everything we need and sketch out a plan.” Rick paused for a moment before shaking his head. “We’ll need at least four people. Me, Daryl, you and Michonne should work. Things should run fine here with everyone else.”

Scout couldn’t help but worry about the plans for a run, but that worry was pushed to the side during dinner. Spirits were high, damn near jovial, as they ate dinner and talked about the future addition to the family. 

“Maybe it’ll be a boy and Judith can be his girlfriend when they grow up.” Carl declared as he snatched another roll from the bread basket. “Or maybe it’ll be a girl and I’ll just have to date her when she gets old enough!” 

“No way! That’s not happening! You’d be way too old for my little girl! Pervert.” Glenn protested loudly, clearly joking, but his comments still bothered Daryl nonetheless. Of which, Glenn didn’t fail to notice and quickly let the subject drop and let the conversation move away from the possible relationships of his unborn child.

After dinner had been cleared away, the group parted ways; Maggie and Glenn retreated to their bedroom, Rick went to rock Judith to sleep, Carl started yet another game of Monopoly with Tyrese, Sasha and Michonne, while Carol washed dishes. Scout hadn’t decided what she was going to do, sitting at the table she watched as Daryl silently slipped out to the front porch with a cigarette dangling from his lips. From her position at the dinner table, she could see the flicker of his lighter and the glowing red ember from the cigarette when he lit up. She debated going outside to join him, but figured he wanted to be alone since he hadn’t invited her along. Instead, she excused herself from the table and went to take a bath; the long day of assisting in Daryl’s hunt, the walking through the woods and the long cry had left her aching body in dire need of a hot soak.

Scout was shoulder deep in bubbles when there was a knock on her bathroom door a short while later and she instinctively knew who it was without asking. He was the only one that came in to her bedroom without asking permission first. Scout checked to make sure the bubbles covered up all the appropriate places, although it was unlikely that Daryl would be able to see anything with only a single candle lighting the room. “Come on in, Daryl.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Daryl asked as he cracked the door to poke his head inside. The room smelled like sugar cookies, a smell he’d come to associate to Scout. 

“I just did.” Scout shrugged and turned to look at him. “You need something?” 

“Nah, just checking on you.’ Daryl chewed on his thumbnail awkwardly as he leaned against the doorframe, of which was still only cracked a few inches. “Am I bothering you?”

“Nope. You can come in if you want.” Scout motioned towards the stool at the counter. “It’s not exactly comfortable though. I guess you could sit on the toilet, if you wanted.”

Daryl shuffled back and forth on his feet for a moment, deciding what to do. Holding Scout while she cried had been intimate enough, but sitting in the bathroom while she bathed was a level or three above that. Finally, he slipped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and took a seat on the floor with his back propped up against the wall. From his position he could look Scout in the face while they talked. He could also see the tops of her breasts, but he tried to avoid making eye contact with them and was thankful for the low light so Scout couldn’t tell when he did. 

Scout watched Daryl while he chewed on his thumbnail again, a gesture she had come to realize meant that something was weighing heavily on his mind, and had an inkling as to what was bothering him. “Glenn wasn’t talking about you earlier. He was just joking around with Carl, you know?”

“I know.” Daryl mumbled, switching from chewing his nails to picking at the hole in the knee of his pants. 

As usual, he didn’t elaborate. Daryl was definitely a man of few words. Scout could tell he wanted to talk to someone though, or at least that was the way she was reading his body language. She wondered if he had been able to talk to anyone after Beth had died, or had he just suffered alone in silence; her guess was the latter of the two. “Tell me about her.” Scout asked hopefully. She wanted him to have someone to talk to, a neutral party that wouldn’t judge him for what he was feeling, someone to help him work through his pain. 

Daryl started to protest, Scout could see it in his face, even with the darkened room and the flickering of the candle flame. And then, he shocked them both. “Beth. Don’t even know where to start.” He paused and considered his words, his thoughts, for a moment before continuing. “Was just a kid when we met her family. Busted up on their property like we did yours. When it got over run with walkers they came with us. Beth, Maggie, and their dad, Hershel. She wasn’t like them, her family, she was so sweet, so…hell, not weak, but not exactly strong yet. More like innocent. Had the voice of an angel, too. Used to sing Judith to sleep, entertain us at night.

‘Don’t know when she grew up finally. Guess at that age you have to do it quickly now. But, there she was, no longer a little girl and fierce. Damn. Wouldn’t let anything go, just gnawed and hounded you until she got her way, but did it with this damn sweet smile on her face so you never realized you was being grilled.” Daryl’s voice caught in his throat and he cleared it to cover up the fact that he was choked up talking about her. He itched for another cigarette, but abided by Scout’s rules of no smoking in the house. “She ended up with me after the prison. Taught her the basics of tracking. Wasn’t exactly great at it, but she didn’t give up. We found an empty funeral home to hole up in. Damn place got over run, too. Fucking walkers. I…I told her to run. To wait by the road for me. By the time I took out enough of ‘em to get out, she was gone. I’d lost her.”

“Maggie told me a little bit about her being kidnapped, but not the whole story. I’m sorry. She sounds a lot like my little sister. I’d have liked to meet her.” Scout pretended not to notice the tearful sound in his voice. “You know, nowadays, with the way things are. I think people age faster, they grow up and mature way before their time. And, from what I’ve heard about her, I think she was an old soul. Maybe age doesn’t matter now. You know, so long as it’s not like icky age difference. I mean, we don’t need grandpa’s picking up toddlers or anything, because…ew…but, she was an adult.”

Daryl knew she was right, but it didn’t mean he didn’t judge himself. He knew others judged him for his relationship with Beth and no matter how hard he had tried during his lifetime, damn it…he still worried what people thought about him. Not that he let that show though. “Beth was one of those inherently good people. Made you think the world was something worth saving.” Daryl licked his lips and continued; spilling his heart out to Scout. “She made me believe in that, too. That there were good people. People worth saving. Never would have thought a few years ago that I would give two shits about anybody in this world. Nobody ever gave a shit about me. Except my brother, but don’t really call him a caring person. More of an asshole than me. You know, we was going to rob their camp before Rick showed up. Things went to shit for a while. Lost Merle. Merle lost his hand. Shit, I don’t know where things turned around. But, there I was, all of the sudden the fucking fish out of water with this group of families. The odd man out. No attachment to any of them, but they let me stay. Didn’t know what I was going to do to them though. Never was able to tell Rick.

‘Then, somewhere down the line I became part of their family. Rick…Rick’s my brother now. He’s more loyal, more caring than my own damn brother ever was. Carol, shit…she lost her little girl. I tried so hard to find her Sophia and the whole damn time she was locked up in Hershel’s barn; a fucking walker. If I’d have tried harder, well…maybe I could’ve saved her, but I fucked that up, too. But, Carol, she forgave me. She’s my best friend, like a sister. They all took me in. Never questioned my intentions. Not once. And now, hell, I’ve changed. Don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did.” Daryl took a deep breath, a calming breath, and placed his head against his hands; pressing the heels of his palm in to his eyes. “Who the fuck becomes a better person after all this shit?”

Tears pricked at Scout’s eyes. No wonder he’d been so closed off. He’d hated himself for years, hated the world around him and certainly wasn’t used to people caring about him. Her heart hurt for him. Scout wanted to chase away all of his demons, take away all of the heart ache and sadness in his life, but she couldn’t. All she could do was try to make his life now a better place for him.

Not caring about decency, Scout scooted towards the end of the tub where Daryl sat; the bubbles no longer covering any of the important parts and she didn’t even give a damn. She reached out and grabbed his wrist lightly, pulling his hand towards her and forcing it away from his eyes. He looked at her; his gaze full of sadness, a deeper darker hurt than he had let her see before. Scout held his hand in hers and kissed the calloused palm; tasted the salty tears that he’d left behind.

“Redemption can be found in oddest places.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews and the kudos!!!

Now that the proverbial ice was broken, the flood gates were open as the swapped war stories. Never once did Scout feel awkward being naked that close to Daryl, although she figured she should. Somehow, someway, she was now more comfortable around him than she had ever been with anyone else; fiancé included. Daryl told her about Beth, about their night in the shack and the moonshine, about burning it down, and somehow ended up in family territory, so Scout broke the no smoking rule and joined Daryl when he lit up immediately, inhaled deeply and leaned his head back against the wall before exhaling slowly. With his head leaned back, his long dark hair fell away from his face and Scout wished he would cut it so she could see more of his face all of the time. While he likely wasn’t what most would consider to be traditionally handsome to most, Scout couldn’t help but think he was probably the most beautiful man she’d ever met; he definitely possessed a quality that made him the sexiest man she had ever been around. 

“I couldn’t imagine going out that way.” Scout commented with a cringe, imagining how it would feel to burn to death, when Daryl told her how his mother died. 

“Doubt she felt it much, being drunk. Probably passed out first.” Daryl got up, walked across the bathroom and opened the window; something they should have done prior to smoking anyway. He reclaimed his seat on the floor and leaned against the wall again. “What about yours? Before or after the outbreak?”

“After, but not long. She killed herself after everything happened, after my dad got bit. Walked right out to the edge of the property and put a bullet through her head. Probably for the best, she wasn’t made for the world the way it is now. Too soft.” The water was starting to cool off and Scout knew she should get out, but she didn’t want this moment to end. Although the topics they were covering were far from happy ones, she wanted to get to know Daryl; to understand him better. “Mom never got over Jill’s death. Dad’s just sent her right over the edge.”

“I couldn’t do that… be upset enough to just off myself, to leave my kids behind. Still had you and your brother. Still had family left.” Daryl pointed out. While there was a part of him that figured his mother’s death had not been an accident, at least he could pretend it had been. “Shitty thing to do. Cowardly.”

“It was. Suicide is the easy way out. Hell, I’ve been up here alone and still didn’t give up. She could’ve at least tried. “Scout poked at the faucet with her big toe and thought about adding more hot water, but decided against it since they needed to conserve it. Definitely wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if she used up the hot water just so she could keep talking to Daryl. “Dad got bit the first day. I found him at the hospital and ended up having to shoot him when he attacked me. And, yet, I’m still here. Jacob, my brother, had just lost his wife and daughter to an attack at the grocery store and he didn’t quit. Mom, she just checked out before the week ended. I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, well, the difference there is you ain’t weak. Proved that more than once.” Daryl leaned forward to toss the butt of his cigarette in the toilet; adding Scout’s when she handed it to him. “Had to kill my brother. Merle, he’d done a lot of shitty things in life, but he didn’t deserve to go out that way...a walker. No one does.”

“No, it’s gruesome. I don’t want to go out that way. Just put a bullet in my head if I get bit, I don’t want to turn in to one of those things.” Scout sunk lower in the bath, trying to get some warmth to the skin that was exposed to the air in the bathroom. “What about your dad? Before or after?”

“Don’t know. Heard he’d went back to prison a while back, don’t know if he made it out. Haven’t seen the bastard since I left home.” Daryl shrugged and considered another cigarette, but noticed that Scout didn’t appear as relaxed as she had been. He stood up, grabbed a towel and handed it to her. “You’re shivering.”

“Yeah, it’s past time to get out. Thanks.” Scout clutched the towel in her hand and when Daryl stepped out of the bathroom, pulled the plug and got out. By the time she finished in the bathroom and headed back in to the bedroom, Daryl was already laying in the floor; blanket on the floor beside him and pillow under his head. Scout walked over to stand at his feet and looked down at him disapprovingly. “It’s too cold to sleep in the floor.”

“Not sleeping on that damn couch. I’ll be fine.” Daryl had to admit that the colder air outside had definitely started effecting the conditions of his new sleeping spot, but he just couldn’t make himself go sleep in the living room. He pointed at the fireplace and said, “Can make a fire, but it ain’t really cold enough for that yet.”

Scout sighed and shook her head at him as she turned to get in bed. “Just sleep up here. Damn. You just watched me take a bath…hell, you took a bath with me last week. I’m fairly certain we can share a bed together now.” She pulled down comforter and sheets and got underneath them, patting the empty spot beside her. “I don’t bite.” 

Daryl laid on the floor considering his options. He could sleep on the drafty floor anyway, go to the living room alone or just accept Scout’s offer to share the bed with her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which option was the best, comfortably speaking, but with the exception of their drunken sleepover in the treehouse, Daryl had never just slept with a woman. What did Scout expect him to do? He’d never cuddled with anyone. Curious, Daryl eased up and poked his head above the railing on the bed and found Scout peering back at him with a bemused expression on her face. 

“Seriously? Hey, if you want me to bite I can, but I was really just thinking about going to sleep.” Judging by the look on his face, you’d have thought she had asked him what the square root of pi was. “Ok, fine. The option is there if you want it. Good night.” 

Scout leaned over and turned off the lantern, plunging the room in to darkness. She heard Daryl mumbled something from the floor, and assumed he was just saying good night back to her, but then she felt the bed sink lower with his weight. She hadn’t felt the blankets lift up, so she assumed he’d just laid on top of the comforter and was using the other blanket to cover up with. Knowing he was there, Scout smiled and snuggled deeper under the blankets and waited for sleep to come.


	20. Chapter 20

The next six weeks passed with little fanfare. Maggie was progressing in her pregnancy and had thankfully gotten past the first trimester and the morning sickness. Scout was now stitch free, but sporting an impressive scar, and the bruises had long since disappeared. Her ribs ached here and there, but overall she felt fine, which led her to believe nothing had been broken after all. Scout had been given the all clear to get back to her normal daily routine and thus, spent every day with Daryl in the woods hunting for the past week.

Their nights had grown longer, dark now falling way earlier than it had been, which meant winter had officially arrived. After dinner everyone would usually crowd around the living room to sit in front of the fireplace and play cards, board games, read or whatever else they could find to alleviate the boredom, but everyone generally disappeared to their separate bedrooms. Daryl continued to sleep in Scout’s room long after her injuries had faded, however he remained vigilant about sleeping above the comforter. 

Eventually, the day of their scavenging trip arrived, no matter how much Scout had wished it wouldn’t. Scout was sitting on the bedroom floor lacing up her boots when Daryl came in to let her know that Rick and Michonne were almost ready to go. He knew she wasn’t looking forward to the trip, but didn’t fully understand why as the story of her brother’s death one of the few she had kept was guarded against her heart. That day had started out as a normal trek in to town for extra supplies and curiosity’s sake and had ended up being one of the most gruesome days of her life; her father’s death included. That day had been the only time Scout had ever taken a human life, a living breathing person, not a walker. 

“You ain’t got to go, you know.” Daryl pointed out as he shoved his pistol in to the holster on his hip, the same Smith and Wesson M&P he’d killed Officer Lerner with after she shot Beth. He’d considered getting rid of it after that day, but guns were few and far between in this world so he had hung on to it. 

Scout stood up and shoved her own pistol in to its holster. “It’ll be quicker if I go, you know that.” She added her hunting knife to its sheath, put on her camouflage winter coat and a hat, and finally shoved a pair of gloves in her pockets. The longest part of the journey would be the nine mile hike to her brother’s house. That was, of course, if his truck and fuel were still at his house. If they weren’t still there, their trip was going to be significantly longer and more tiresome. “Let’s get this over with.”

In the living room, Michonne was buttoning up one of Scout’s mother’s old winter coats while Rick was talking to Glenn. “Look, I know you’re one of the best runners we have, but this time is different. You have to stay here with your wife, your baby. Someone has to be here for them if something goes wrong on this run.” 

“I get that. It just feels weird not going.” Glenn looked over at Scout and Daryl and back at Rick. “I appreciate what you guys are doing for us.”

“Please be careful.” Maggie added, coming in to the living room to stand next to her husband. She wrapped one arm around Glenn’s waist and leaned in against him. “Come home to us.”

Goodbyes were passed around and then the foursome set off down the driveway. While Scout had made the journey to her brother’s house, formerly her grandparents’ house, on foot on more than one occasion over the years she had not done so loaded down with this many weapons. Each of them had a pistol on their side, she and Rick had rifles, Daryl had his crossbow and each of them had a knife, except Michonne, who was armed with her katana; each of them also had a backpack or two for transporting supplies. Therefore, since they were laden with this much extra weight, she figured it would take them at least three hours, if not more, to make it to their first stop. They had already decided that they would only obtain her brother’s truck and fuel at his house before heading in to town, saving going through the items at his house for when they got back. Their timeline, however, completely depended on if his truck was still there. 

Scout held her hand up, signaling when they were near her brother’s house. From their position, it looked just as boarded up as it had last time she saw it, but one could never be sure. They broke off in pairs of two, one set going around front and one around back, and searched the area and perimeter of the house quietly. Back around front, Scout pulled out her keys and set about unlocking the door lock, along with two deadbolts, putting the keys back in her pocket before easing the door open with her foot. Going in low, Rick covering her from behind, they followed standard operating procedure for clearing a house while Daryl and Michonne kept guard outside. Once they checked every room and each closet to ensure that they were alone, Scout went back to the front door and motioned for them to come inside.

“Stairs to the garage are over here.” Scout headed through the foyer into the kitchen where she opened a door that led to a darkened stairwell. Flicking on her flashlight, she held it in her left hand with her pistol in her right hand, propped on top of the left. When her foot hit the bottom step, she swept the beam of the flashlight across the room and sighed in relief when it found her brother’s truck, an extended cab 4x4 Dodge Ram 2500. “Hell yeah. Now all we have to find is the gas.”

Daryl navigated his way through the basement with his flashlight in his mouth, crossbow at ready, to open the garage doors. Sunlight burst in and flooded the darkened area with much needed light. Scout went around to the driver’s side and opened the door, letting out a little shriek of joy when she found the keys in the ignition. The truck started up on the second try and Scout was pleasantly surprised to find the tank just over three quarters full. She backed the truck out of its parking spot and pulled around to the shed out back, where hopefully the gas cans were still located and full. Daryl jogged over to help her clear the barn.

“Tank’s damn near full.” Scout announced, jumping down from the cab. “Any extra gas would be a help though, just in case.” 

Daryl followed her around the truck to the barn and on the count of three, pulled the door open while Scout went in with her pistol and flashlight raised high. They cleared the barns two floors and located three full gas cans tucked away in the corner. Fortune weighing heavily in their corner and it made Daryl a little more than wary; their group certainly wasn’t accustomed to things running smoothly for long. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Daryl put his crossbow across his back and grabbed two of the cans, leaving the last one for Scout, and carried them out to the truck. In the end, they decided not to take all three and left two locked inside the house as they left. 

“Thanks to the truck, we can hit Doc Welling’s before town since it’s a bit off the path. Hopefully being that far out it hasn’t been picked clean yet.” Scout announced as she turned off the main road onto what was basically a glorified pig trail of dirt. “He moved his practice out to his house when his wife got sick.”

“Any other doctor’s out away from town?” Michonne asked from the backseat, where she sat with Rick. She hadn’t gotten her hopes up about the truck still being there, but was damn happy it was. Felt good to not be walking for once. 

“There’s a horse ranch on the other side of town and there was veterinarian on site there, but I think Doc Welling’s place is the only one out this way. There’s two more doctor’s in town, but those were trashed pretty early on. We’ve got a good stash of medical supplies at home, Dad had a lot there before and Jacob and I got to his office before any one hit it, so we got most all of his supplies from there. Whatever else we could find would just be extra, which is always needed.” Scout slowed down and turned down a gravel driveway that led to what used to be a quaint country home, but now resembled something out of a ghost story. 

“Same as before.” Rick announced, pulling his rifle around from his back. Using two fingers, he signaled for Scout to follow him through the front and for Daryl and Michonne to circle around back. 

Once inside, they cleared the whole house before searching for whatever medical supplies might still be there. Daryl and Scout disappeared to the home office at the back of the house, while the other two searched the main living quarters. Scout opened the blinds in the office to let some light in while they searched, thankful that it didn’t appear to have been ransacked like her father’s office had been. They managed to locate a first aid kid, alcohol and peroxide, a couple of suture kits, syringes, gauze and other bandages, before locating the locked medicine cabinet tucked away in the corner. Clearing the cabinet of everything it held inside, Scout packed everything away in her backpack and turned to face Daryl. 

“Figure that’s all we’re going to find here. He was basically retired by the time the outbreak came along, only saw a handful of patients a month.” She scanned the room while talking, making sure they weren’t leaving anything behind. 

“Got more than I expected.” Daryl replied, reaching out to take the backpack from her; exchanging it for his empty one. “Here, let me take that one.”

“Let’s go see if the others found anything and get out of here.” Scout headed out of the back office and found Rick and Michonne steadily going through the cabinets in the kitchen. “We found some first aid stuff and some medicine. You guys have any luck?”

“Not much in the way of medical supplies, but we found some canned goods and toiletries.” Michonne motioned towards her full back pack and smiled. “Can’t have too much toilet paper.”

“I think we’re about done here. How far is it in to town?” Rick asked as he turned to head down the hallway to the front door. 

“Five or six miles, not far. We should be able to check a place or two before dark. The rest we can get in the morning.” Scout tossed her bag in to the bed of the truck, which was thankfully covered so their bounty wouldn’t be visible if any one happened by. “My apartment is on the edge of town. So long as it’s still locked up we should be safe to stay there for the night.” Scout figured her place would still be alright to sleep in considering most people didn’t even realize there was an apartment above the law office. The door was on the back of the building at the top of a rickety set of stairs and there was only one window on the rear, which was in the bathroom. Her father had insisted on installing a steel security screen over the flimsy wooden door, along with a couple extra deadbolts, and the windows on the front above the office were painted shut and difficult to access anyway. 

Once they got in to town, Scout parked the truck in the alleyway that led to her apartment and they set about clearing the businesses on that block. After searching a community bank, the water authority, a clothing boutique and an aerobics studio, they called it a night since the sky was getting darker. Scout led them around to the back of the law office through the alley and led them up the rickety stairs to her apartment. Once there, Scout took out her key ring and unlocked each lock before stuffing them back in her pants pocket.

She eased the door open with her toe and crouched to enter, letting Rick follow above her with his gun high. Their flashlights swept the room and Scout frowned when she saw the disarray; the muddy shoes by the door, food containers scattered about over every viable surface and a men’s watch laying on her coffee table. Scout was one hundred percent sure that she hadn’t left things in that shape and since the door had been thoroughly locked up tight, she realized that only meant one thing…whoever was inside had a key. There was only one person outside of her family had a key to her apartment and that was the person who owned not only the watch on the coffee table, but the business downstairs; which had a stairwell that led from the office to her kitchen. Unfortunately, that one person also happened to be her lying, cheating, scumbag of an ex-fiancé. With a grimace on her face, Scout called out, “Lance! Get your ass out here now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews and kudos! I truly appreciate them!!!


	21. Chapter 21

Scout stepped forward further in to the living room, her pistol still held high just in case she was wrong about who was inside her apartment, and motioned with her left hand for the others to come on inside. She didn't turn around to see if they had followed, but could tell they were close on her heels as they entered the living room and spread out a bit. Scout shone her flashlight into the kitchen area and found more of the same trash piled up and snarled in disgust before continuing her search. Now in the hallway just outside the kitchen, she noticed that the doorway down to Lance's office was shut and bolted from the inside. That meant that he was either hiding somewhere inside, or had locked up before leaving. Scout peeked around the next doorway into the bathroom and checked all corners with her flashlight before stepping inside to look behind the shower curtain. Coming up empty yet again, she stepped back in to the hallway and shook her head at Daryl who was following behind her while Rick and Michonne stood back in the living room; the hallway too narrow for all of them to venture down it tactically.

She made eye contact with Daryl and used one finger on her left hand to point towards the end of the hallway where there was a linen closet. When he nodded his head and raised his crossbow once more, Scout crossed the space within a few steps and stuck the flashlight in her mouth so she could open the door with her left hand; never dropping her gun hand. Counting to three with her left hand, Scout opened the door as Daryl stepped around to point his bow inside.

Just as she had figured, sitting in the bottom of the linen closet partially hidden beneath an old blanket was her ex-fiancé; cowering like a frightened school girl. Lowering her weapon Scout took the flashlight out of her mouth and motioned for a confused Daryl to do the same before saying, "What in the hell are you doing in there?"

"I didn't know who was coming in." Lance blubbered as he crawled out from his hidey hole. "The only weapon I have is this pocket knife you gave me years ago. I thought it best to hide until the situation improved." Lance stood up, towering over Scout and Daryl by at least four inches, but somehow managed to look nonthreatening and small in comparison to Daryl, despite the height difference. His once impeccably groomed blonde hair was now unkempt and covered his ears. While he had never been one for facial hair, it turned out that the lack of it was due more to the fact that he couldn't grow a beard instead of just wanting to be clean shaved. Tiny patches of what looked like peach fuzz speckled his cheeks and upper lip, looking more like a prepubescent teen than a man pushing forty.

"Laura, I can't believe it's you! I thought you were dead." Lance exclaimed and in a move that surprised the hell out of Scout, lunged forward with his arms outstretched; presumably to hug her. His actions, however, were read completely different by Daryl, who stepped between them immediately and pushed Lance backwards by shoving his left hand directly into the man's chest. Thrown off guard, Lance was thrown off balance, stepped backwards with an incredulous expression on his face. "What the hell, Laura?"

"Daryl, it's ok." Scout reached out and touched Daryl lightly on the bicep. "He's not a threat. Let's go in to the living room, this hallway is entirely too small for all of us." Scout motioned for Daryl to go ahead of her, intending on putting space between him and Lance, but all she got in return was a shake of the head. Conceding, she went ahead down the hallway in to the living room, where Rick and Michonne were waiting; both as confused as Daryl, no doubt.

Once in the living room, Scout took a moment to make herself comfortable and in the process, give her mind a little time to process what the hell was going on. She laid her rifle on the kitchen table and shrugged her arms out of her coat, hanging it on the back of the head chair. She put her hands on top of the chair and hung her head for a moment in thought, and took a deep breath before pushing away and turning back around to the group. "Everyone can put down their weapons. He's not going to do anything."

Scout didn't miss the exchanged looks between Rick and Michonne, even in the low light of the room, as they lowered their weapons, but didn't set them aside. It was on the verge of being so dark in the living room that they were going to be sitting in the pitch black if someone didn't light a candle or lantern soon, so Scout pulled out her lighter and set about doing so; thankful that Lance had a few candles set out around the room.

"Who the fuck is he?" Daryl asked, still standing at the edge of the living room by the hallway with his crossbow in his hands.

"I'm her fiancé." Lance announced with a smirk that Scout wanted to walk across the room and slap right off his face. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Shut the fuck up. That's who." Daryl turned to Scout and asked, "He serious?"

"Ex-fiancé," Scout clarified, "Emphasis on ex. I haven't seen him since before the outbreak. In fact, the last time I saw him he was fucking my best friend, Amanda, in the backseat of his car."

Uncomfortable with the unfolding drama, Rick announced that he was going to step outside and check the area and tugged a slightly reluctant Michonne out the door with him. Scout heard her protesting all the way down the stairs. "But, I wanted to watch. There's no TV."

"You want me to go, too?" Daryl asked as he edged towards the door, presumably following the other's to give her some privacy. Scout shook her head and reached out to touch his chest to stop him from walking by.

"Of course not. If anyone goes it's going to be Lance." Scout turned her attention back to Lance while Daryl shed his jacket and laid his crossbow against the front door. She could sense him behind her and figured he was leaning against something staring at Lance in that way he was capable of; that stare that went straight through your soul and not in a good way. "How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure, since summer, I guess. It was still hot out when I made it back to town. I holed up at the Steverson's farm after the outbreak with a bunch of people, but that fell apart earlier this year. Some of us lived in the woods for a bit, ended up making our way back to town and went our separate ways."

"The Steverson's? Derek and Wade's parent's farm?" Scout asked, instantly more interested in exactly what Lance had been doing since everything went to shit.

"Yeah, about twenty or so of us went out there once town was overrun. I mean, I wasn't really friends with them before, their older sister was in my class, but we'd all grown up around one another so I figured it was safe. Slept in tents outside, but at least we had water and food. It was still a nightmare. But, Derek and Wade went out for a supply run one day, they usually stayed gone for two or three days, but this time they didn't come back. After that we started running short on supplies and a few people left to see where else they could go, but I stayed behind with Amanda and a few other people hoping they'd come back." Lance paused and genuinely seemed distressed. "We, the rest of us, we got overrun there, too. Those biters showed up there and attacked us. So I ran, ended up here after a few weeks. Still had your keys downstairs in the office."

"Derek and Wade Steverson killed Jacob, Lance." Scout informed him with a stony glare. "They murdered my brother right out there in the street when he wouldn't just hand over our supplies."

"Why would they do that? Wasn't he friends with Derek?" Lance asked curiously. "Why would they steal from you guys?"

"They didn't know I was there. I was inside the corner market when they pulled up, saw them talking to Jacob, but they didn't see me. Jacob put his hand up when they approached, signaling for me to stay in the store. He tried to reason with them, to split up our supplies. Derek was his best friend in elementary school, of course he'd try to help him. You know how Jacob was, he'd give the shirt off his back to someone that truly needed it." Scout pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to erupt. "He was talking to Derek when Wade walked up, his back was towards me so I couldn't see very well, but then...then he pulled out his gun and shot Jacob. Just shot him in the head, just like that. Derek didn't even say anything to Wade, didn't get mad or anything, he just bent down and started searching Jacob. They fucking killed him and left him in the street, Lance. Did you know what they were doing when they left the farm? Did you fucking know?"

"Oh god. I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know that's what they were doing when they went in to town, Laura." Lance stood up from the couch and walked around the coffee table. When he got closer to Scout, presumably coming to console her, he noticed the expression on her face and realized what she was feeling now wasn't grief, but pure rage. Lance stopped about a foot or two away from her, finally understanding what Scout was telling him. "Jesus Christ, Laura...what did you do?"

"Don't give me that high and fucking mighty look, Lance. They deserved what they got." Scout was shaking with anger, her heart thumped in her chest and her cheeks flushed with rage. "I killed them, is that what you want to hear? I waited ‘til it was dark out and I hunted them down and made them pay for what they did. They took my brother from me, the last member of my family that I had left. The last person I had left in my life...they took him from me and left me alone. I'd kill them again if I could."

Finally, Daryl knew why Scout was so against scavenging runs now and he hated that they had to put her through another one. He knew the tears spilling across her cheeks weren't tears of sadness, but tears of anger and hatred; both for the loss of her brother and the loss of her innocence from having to take a life. Undoubtedly, as a police officer, someone sworn to protect and serve, she had not had to do that very often in her life, much less doing so out of vengeance. Daryl wanted to cross the room, take her in his arms and attempt to erase the feelings she was suffering through, but he didn't know if she wanted that...him. Instead, he forced himself to wait and watch and see what she wanted.

"People died because of you, Laura! When Derek and Wade didn't come back with supplies, the people that relied on them died. Amanda died because of you!" Lance shouted and shoved his finger towards Scout. "I hope you feel real good about yourself. You always were a selfish bitch."

Seething, Scout lashed out and slapped him; leaving a red whelp on his cheek. "Fuck you and fuck Amanda, you think I give two shits about either of you anymore?"

Daryl sensed it before Lance likely even realized what he was about to do and crossed the room, shoving Lance backwards before he had a chance to hit Scout. Although the other man was taller than Daryl, he wasn't as well built and definitely had never learned lessons the hard way on the street. Daryl didn't back down. Never did and never would. He bumped into Lance with his chest and stared up at him, daring the man to move a muscle. Then he stepped forward, moving Lance backwards with his mere presence, forcing the man away from Scout until his legs hit the against the couch and he fell back on to it.

"You don't fucking touch her." Daryl said in a menacing tone, his voice gruffer than usual, after he leaned down so that he was only a few scant inches away from Lance's shocked face. He then turned around to Scout and nodded towards the door, where Rick and Michonne had returned to peer through curiously. "Let's go outside."

Scout turned and started to do as Daryl said, but caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Lance had stupidly stood up and come towards the two of them. She reached out to grab Daryl, to move him out of the way of a possible assault, when Lance stopped.

"Where'd you dig this thug up, Laura? Did you get him out of lockup to keep you safe?" Lance sneered. "Really scraping the bottom of the trash heap with this one."

Scout turned to face Lance and reached out with her right hand to take Daryl's hand in hers; relieved when he returned the squeeze she gave him. "You want to know who he is, Lance. I'll tell you. This man...Daryl...he's a better man than you could ever dream to be. Ever. He's caring. He's loyal. He's strong. He provides for his family. He's...well, he's fucking beautiful, that's who he is. Daryl is all the things you could never be no matter how hard you tried, because you are worthless. You're a useless, no good, selfish ass, just like my daddy said you were. Leaving you, the world falling apart, all of it...everything that has happened has been worth it because I found him. That's who he is."

Shaking with emotion, Scout turned to look up at Daryl, her eyes full of tears. She had just said all the things she had wanted to say to him and now Scout was frightened at what he would do, what he would think, how he would react. What she found in his eyes sent the tears that she had been holding at bay spilling over her lashes. Staring back at her were two beautifully dark blue eyes full of shock, full of questions, but most of all...she saw happiness in them. With her free hand, Scout wiped at her eyes and laughed before continuing. "So, you know what? I think you should just get the hell out of here if you think anything different."

Daryl didn't know what to do. All he could do was stare at Scout and hold on to her hand tightly, as though this were all a dream and she might just float away. Carol and Beth had both tried over the years to make him realize he was better than he thought, but after years of abuse Daryl couldn't bring himself to ever believe them. A child can only hear he's trash, nothing but a mistake, a loser, so many times before it sticks. But Scout, hearing what she thought about him, well...damn near brought him to his knees he was so overwhelmed. He had no idea that she'd been harboring such feelings about him and Daryl wondered what that meant for them. They had a lot to discuss, but that would have to wait until later, when they were alone.

And, damn it, she was sexy as Hell when she was angry.

"You can't be serious?" Lance asked, quickly clarifying himself when Daryl glared at him and took a step forward. "You can't kick me out, Laura. I can't be out there on my own! I've been in here for months, hiding out, only going outside to use the bathroom like an animal. I won't make it out there."

"I don't see how that's my problem anymore." Scout replied coldly. "And stop fucking calling me Laura. You know I hate that name." Scout motioned towards the front door and then walked away silently, pulling Daryl along behind her. Once they were out of sight, tucked away in the kitchen, she finally allowed herself to take a deep, calming breath as she leaned over to put her head on the cool countertop.

Daryl watched as Lance grabbed his shoes before stepping outside on to the balcony to where Rick and Michonne were still standing; thoroughly engrossed in the drama that had unfolded before them. When the door clicked shut and they were finally alone, he reached out and touched Scout on the small of her back. "You ok?"

Scout raised up and leaned back against Daryl, allowing him to put his arms around her comfortingly. "I will be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and the kudos! I appreciate it!


	22. Chapter 22

When Rick and Michonne stepped back in to the apartment a few moments later, they laid their weapons down on the kitchen table before turning towards the kitchen where Daryl was leaning against the counter and Scout had begun to busy herself by checking the kitchen cabinets.

"He's sitting on the stairs outside. I doubt he'll stray too far." Rick informed them as he eyeballed Daryl, with questions in his eyes. "Ya'll ok?"

"That son of a bitch ate damn near everything." Scout cussed and slammed the cabinet door shut without giving Daryl a chance to respond to Rick's inquiry. "I had close to a years’ worth of food saved up, mostly canned stuff and MRE's, and that shithead ate the majority of it. There are a couple cans of ravioli left, some peanut butter packs and a stack of beef stew packets." 

"You really putting him out?" Rick asked cautiously, "I doubt he'll make it a week on his own; out there." While his demeanor had been forced to harden over the years, his compassion taking the biggest hit, Rick couldn't imagine Scout would truly leave someone she loved at one point in her life to fend for themselves in the wild, to figuratively cut their throats and toss them in to the street; especially since she had given sanctuary to a group of strangers. 

"I should." Scout leaned against the counter opposite of Daryl and crossed her arms across her chest. She desperately wanted Lance to disappear, to vanish in to thin air, but no matter how much she hated him Scout didn't want him to die at her hands; which is what would happen if she tossed his sorry ass out in to the night unarmed and with no food and water. She sighed and rolled her eyes before pushing away from the counter and stalking towards the front door, yanking it open with a growl of annoyance. "Get your sorry ass in here. But, I swear, you do one thing that pisses me off and I will tie you to a damn tree and leave you for the walkers, you hear me?"

Lance hustled up the stairs and into the apartment, singing her praises the whole way. Once inside, he flopped down on to the couch with a sigh of relief and said, "Thank you. I haven't been outside in months, except to use the bathroom or find water."

"Yeah, I noticed. You ate all my supplies I left behind in case I needed to come back." Scout clenched her hands and silently told herself not to strangle him. Cursing, she grabbed her flashlight and stalked down the hallway. "Thankfully you couldn't get your greedy hands on everything."

Curious, the rest of them followed Scout to the end of the hall into her bedroom and watched as she took a large mirror off the wall. Daryl crossed the room and took the cumbersome wall decoration out of her hands and laid it on the bed; not at all surprised to find that Scout had a safe hidden behind the damn thing. 

"Dad helped me put this in the summer before the outbreak." Scout punched in the combination and smiled as the door opened. "I swear, it's like he knew this was going to happen."

"Doubt anyone could have predicted this, but you dad was on the right track." Rick stated as he stepped around the bed to peer inside the safe. Looking inside, he saw a rifle, a shotgun, two pistols, ammo for all of them and a couple more boxes of ready to eat meals. "Wish I had thought about doing something like this."

Rick and Michonne took the boxes of food in to the kitchen and placed them on the counter next to what Scout had already cleared out of the cabinets; wasn't much, but could feed their whole group for a month, maybe two, if they rationed it out carefully. "This, with what's already in the truck, will help replenish some of what we've taken from Scout already. Won't replace it all, but at least we won't deplete her storage completely." 

"You think Daryl's going to come with us?" Michonne asked after she peeked around the doorway to make sure no one was around to hear her. 

"Can't really predict what Daryl will and won't do, that much we know for sure." Rick took out his flashlight and started looking through the food packets from the safe to see what types of meals were available. He didn't want to think about the day when it would be time for them to leave and honestly, hoped that Scout would change her mind. While it would be tight quarters, he truly thought their group...their family...could make it work; live there happily and safely. "Guess we'll see when the time comes."

"I'm surprised he didn't just put an arrow through that guy’s head and be done with it." Michonne replied with half a smile. "He showed major willpower. I think our Daryl is growing up on us." 

"Think he was waiting to see if Scout would do it first." Rick replied with a chuckle. He located a couple of meal packets that had the earliest expiration dates and set them aside for their dinner; chicken fajita or creamed beef. "Those two couldn't be more perfectly suited for one another."

"Agreed. She's like the female Daryl. Which isn't as strange as you'd imagine." Michonne quickly grabbed one of the chicken fajita flavor meals, claiming it before she got stuck with creamed beef. "I'll go grab a jug of water so we can make these."

"Good. I'll come with you. Saw a grill downstairs, we need to heat up the water first." Rick searched the cabinets and came up with an appropriate pot before following Michonne out the door.

Back in the bedroom, the tension was palpable as Scout and Daryl searched drawers and cabinets for remaining supplies and Lance sat around being useless. They cleared the bathroom of toiletries and first aid supplies, taking inventory in the bedroom before storing them in one of the crates they'd located in a closet. From the bedroom closet and drawers, Scout tossed what clothes she could fit in to an old suitcase and sat it in the hallway. Turning back to where Daryl stood in the corner of the bedroom, as far away from where Lance was sitting as he could possibly get in such a small area. "Guess that's about it for in here."

"You're really taking everything? Leaving me here with nothing?" Lance asked, wide eyed as he gestured around the room with his hands. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"This was my stuff to start with Lance. I'm just taking it back." Scout shooed him off the bed and started stripping the dirty sheets from where he'd been sleeping. She had no intention of sleeping on sheets that reeked of him, preferring to sleep on just the mattress with a blanket instead. She briefly considered flipping the mattress, too. "Here, you can have these." She tossed the wad of dirty bedclothes towards him, where they landed at his feet. "If you aren't happy with that, then feel free to go outside." After that comment, they had a brief staring contest, before Lance chickened out and stomped out of the room in a huff. 

"You was going to get hitched to him?" Daryl asked, truly curious as to why someone as strong, brave and beautiful as Scout was would ever tie herself to someone as weak and sniveling as Lance. 

"Sadly, yes. We all make horrible mistakes. But, to be honest, he could fake being a decent human being pretty well. I chalk it up to him being a defense attorney." Scout stood up, grabbed the bag of guns and motioned towards the living room with her head. "I am in desperate need of a smoke, you?"

Daryl picked up the crate of first aid supplies and followed Scout down the hallway, where they stacked the gun bag, suitcase of clothes and crate of first aid and toiletries by the front door. He held the door open for Scout and was about to step outside when he thought about Lance sitting on the couch. No way did he trust leaving that man in the apartment with weapons. Daryl pointed a finger at Lance and said, "You. Outside."

Lance thought about defying the man pointing at him, but decided against it. He was fairly certain Scout's new man would happily kill him if given the chance. Just one look at the man and Lance could tell that he was nothing but white trash and had probably spent more than his fair share of time in prison before the outbreak and couldn't for the life of him fathom why his ex-fiancé would ever be attracted to someone like that. Lance kept his mouth shut and headed outside, his mind was busy working out a way to get back in Scout's good graces and find a way to get her to take him back to her father's house with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos! I appreciate and adore them dearly...as does muse! This chapter is a little short, so I will likely be doing three updates this week to make up for it. Check back tomorrow! Thanks a bunch!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since yesterday's post and what would have been Tuesday's post were so short, I decided to add an extra update for you guys this week. :) Thanks for the reviews and votes!

Dinner was uneventful, filled with agonizing conversation with her ex that bored Scout to tears as Rick all but grilled Lance on what he had dealt with since the outbreak. She knew Rick was just trying to get a feel for how things were in this area, to understand what other's had experienced, but all Scout wanted to do was throat punch Lance and fling him off the balcony. When she had scraped up the last bite of creamed beef, which surprisingly wasn't as bad as it sounded, Scout wadded up the packet and placed it inside the container they were using for trash. 

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat." She announced as she pushed away from the table. "Rick, Michonne, the couch folds out if you guys want to deal with that. I left some extra blankets on the coffee table, too. Lance, feel free to sleep on the floor." Scout eyeballed the gun bag and, her mind finally catching up to what Daryl had realized when they went out to smoke. "Actually, I have a better idea."

Scout grabbed a blanket and one of the throw pillows from the loveseat and marched over to the doorway that led down in to Lance's office. "Lance, give me the keys to the apartment."

"You're not seriously making me sleep down there are you?" Lance stared at the others as if they were going to help change Scout's mind. "It's not safe."

"Sure it is. Sleep in your supply closet, push something up against it from the inside. There's no way I trust you to sleep up here with us. Not with the weapons laying around and what food we have left."

"Someone talk some sense in to her. The whole front of that office is glass! Anyone could come in." Lance shoved away from the table and emphatically gestured towards Scout while he begged for help.

"I'd do as the lady says." Rick chimed in, putting a hand on Daryl's arm to stop him from getting up from the table. "It's safer than outside."

"You can do as she says, or I can make you." Daryl glared at Lance and actually hoped the sniveling pansy would take a stand against him. For a brief moment, he thought Lance might actually show a hint of backbone and challenge him. But, just as Daryl expected, Lance dropped his shoulders, sighed in defeat and shuffled towards Scout. "Might be a pussy, but seems to have some brain left."

Scout shoved the blanket and pillow in to Lance's hand after he forked over the ring of keys in his pocket. "Here. You can borrow the flashlight." Lance flashed a sad pair of puppy dog eyes at her, visually pleading with her to not send him downstairs, but when Scout opened the door and gestured from him to go, he huffed and stomped down the stairs. Scout didn't bother to wait for him to reach the landing at the bottom before she shut the door, locked it and tossed the key ring onto the counter in the kitchen.

Daryl grabbed their coats from the back of the chair they'd stored them on earlier and headed towards the bedroom. This winter had yet to be as cold as previous ones, but without a fireplace in the apartment the place was cooling off rapidly; they'd definitely be sleeping fully dressed tonight. Of course, he still damn near slept that way every night, only without boots and a coat. While he had finally grown comfortable enough around Scout to sleep on her bed, not in it yet, Daryl couldn't bring himself to disrobe any further than what he had so far. 

Once Rick and Michonne were set up in the living room, having opted out of dealing with the fold out couch and settling for one on the couch and one on the loveseat, Scout checked the door locks and headed down the hallway towards her old bedroom. Daryl was already inside, one lone candle flickering away on the end table creating an entirely too intimate atmosphere now that Scout had spilled her guts in regards to how she felt about him. Suddenly very nervous, she shut the door slowly and shyly avoided his questioning gaze as she made her way towards the bed. The bed that was significantly smaller than the king size bed they'd been sharing. 

"Grabbed your coat just in case you get cold." Daryl held it out for her, seemingly unaware of her sudden case of nervousness. 

"Thanks. Tonight turned out colder than we expected it to be." She hung the jacket on the bed post and sat down on the edge of the mattress to remove her boots. After a second thought, she slipped her belt off, too. Scout felt Daryl sit down on the other side of the bed, the old mattress sinking with his weight, and heard the thud of his boots hitting the ground before the weight shifted on the bed when he laid down. Turning her head, Scout could see him watching her in the faint flickering light and her stomach was a pit of hyperactive butterflies when pierced with his steely blue gaze. 

"Whole damn day turned out different than expected." Daryl crooked his elbow under his head and chuckled at the turn of events. As he watched Scout he sensed something about her behavior and wondered what was wrong, she seemed off somehow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Scout knew how stupid that sounded, surely men around the world were aware that when a woman says 'nothing' she clearly means 'something'. But, she didn't want to talk about what happened earlier; the things she had said. "I'm just tired and want to be back home."

Daryl waited until Scout was tucked in beneath the blankets before blowing out the candle, plunging them in to darkness, the pitch black nearly moonless night beyond the solitary window offering little to no light. He felt Scout roll over to face him, could barely see her, but could tell she was staring at him. Daryl laid there, silent and unmoving, waiting to see if she would say something, but she never did. 

It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

The next morning, they were awakened by a sudden series of loud bangs from the hallway. Scout laid there, confused for the moment, before where she was and what was making that noise finally registered her foggy brain. For a moment she considered getting out of bed until she realized that during the night she had ended up wrapped in Daryl's arms; him laying behind her with his left arm over hers and tucked tightly against her chest. Warm and snuggly, Scout ignored the knocking in the hallway until she heard the rattling sounds of the key chain being picked up and voices of Lance and Rick, as he let the other man in to the apartment.

Scout would have loved to go back to sleep for a bit longer as they had yet another tiring day ahead of them, but the warm breath from Daryl was caressing the back of her neck. She had failed to take down her ponytail before bedtime and his breathing was tickling the tiny hairs along her hairline. It was very distracting, but not exactly in a bad way. Suddenly, he murmured in his sleep and tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer against his body. The distracting breath on her neck was still present, but now he was all but nuzzling the area after pulling her closer to him. Scout relished the contact and knew that there was no other place she would rather be at the moment. 

Snuggly warm in Daryl's embrace, more relaxed than she had been in ages, Scout ended up slipping back in to the land of dreams after all, only to be awakened once more by knocking sounds. This time, however, it was someone knocking on their bedroom door with light raps instead of booming thwacks. Scout mentally snarled at whomever had knocked on the door, because this time the sound woke Daryl up, causing him to release his hold on her. Grumbling, Scout called out for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in.

"Good Morning," Michonne announced a little too brightly for Scout's tastes, as she poked her head inside the bedroom. "Breakfast is almost done. Rick said we need to get a move on if we're going to clear the rest of downtown today." Without saying anything else, Michonne closed the door softly and left.

"We'll be right out." Scout called out, although Michonne had already closed the door. She felt the weight on the bed shift as Daryl sat up, so she rolled over and watched him put on his boots. "Were you able to get any sleep? This isn't the most comfortable bed ever made.”

"Yeah. Some." Daryl muttered without turning around. He had, in fact, slept wonderfully...once he got to sleep, that was. What he assumed were several hours had been spent rehashing everything that had happened the day before, analyzing everything Scout had said. He stood abruptly and turned to face her, full intending on asking if she had meant what she'd said yesterday about him, or if it was just words meant to hurt her ex-fiancé. Daryl, ever the insecure abuse little boy that refused to leave his mind, had an easier time accepting that Scout's words had been used to hurt her former love, rather than being the honest truth of how she felt. 

Scout watched Daryl as he struggled with whatever thoughts and emotions he was dealing with at the moment. He shuffled from one foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he avoided making eye contact, telltale signs of discomfort for Daryl as he faced everything head on...except his feelings. Well, maybe all feelings except for anger, he dealt with that fairly easy. She thought he might finally be about to say something, when they were interrupted once more. This time, it was Lance.

"Knock much?" Scout said, instantly annoyed as her ex strolled in to the room without even bothering to knock or ask permission. 

"Rick said ya'll were going scavenging today for supplies. I said I wanted to tag along and he refused, said I had to ask you. So, can I?" Lance spit out impatiently, not even offering an apology for barging in. He had honestly hoped to embarrass the two, but was surprised to find them both fully dressed as Scout crawled out of bed wearing the same clothes from the day before. A glimmer of hope formed within him as he realized they hadn't had sex, because why would they bother to get redressed when two people can produce more heat if they get under the covers without clothing; just using body heat. Lance wondered just how close they actually were. "Since you're leaving me with nothing here, I could use help in locating at least some stuff."

Scout flung off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, deflated as whatever Daryl had wanted to say to her was lost since he slipped past Lance and disappeared down the hallway. Shoving her feet in to her boots, Scout impatiently said, "I don't know, Lance. I'll think about it."

"I thought some sleep might help your mood, but seems you're pretty cranky this morning. What? Lover boy didn't satisfy you? Need me to step in and fix it?" Lance asked cockily. "I recall you were quite fond of a little morning romp at one time."

"I would rather be sewn to this carpet than have you touch me, Lance." Scout sarcastically replied without skipping a beat. She slipped the belt through the loops on her pants and walked past Lance in to the bathroom, where she fixed her ponytail in the mirror and got the crust out of the corner of her eyes. "Just leave me alone for a bit and I will consider letting you come with us. Annoy me one time and I won't hesitate to make you stay here."

Without bothering to wait for his reply, Scout scooped up the blankets from the bed and left the bedroom. She deposited the wad of blankets on to the couch to be folded before they left and joined the others at the kitchen table. Breakfast was ravioli, not the most desired early morning meal, but one couldn't be picky nowadays. After everyone was served, they immediately started discussing the plan for that day.

"We might as well check as many businesses as possible. You never know what someone had stuffed away in their office that others might not have thought about checking." Rick pointed out, pausing to take a bite of pasta. "Question is, split up in groups or stay together?"

"I would think the smaller businesses could be checked in two's, and do the larger places together? We can always change our search plan once we get out there and see what we're dealing with." Scout pointed out, scowling as Lance reached across the table for more food. 

"Scout has a point." Michonne said around a bite of food. "We check places that are right next to one another, that way if there is an issue the other group isn't at the other end of the street."

Daryl didn't chime in until Rick asked him what his thoughts were. Shrugging, he replied, "Sounds like a plan." 

After breakfast, coats and weapons were donned and they each grabbed one of the extra backpacks they'd brought from home, before locking the door and heading down the stairs. In a moment of weakness, Scout had allowed Lance to come along with them, but had done so only with the stipulation that he stand on the street and wait for them to clear a business first. No one needed him distracting them while they searched. Daryl had seemed less than thrilled at the announcement that Lance would be joining them and showed his displeasure by ignoring the man every time he asked a question.

Two by two, each group meticulously worked their way through the rest of the shops on the street and Lance miraculously managed to wait outside of each store until given the ok to enter. Sadly, most of town had already been picked over and they didn't find much in the way of food and supplies. There was, however, a maternity and baby store they had decided to save for last. While Daryl and Scout headed towards the store to start clearing out the building, Rick and Michonne carried what items they had already located back to the truck. Lance, ever the thorn in Scout’s side, refused to wait on the sidewalk this time and followed them in to the store.

Clearly annoyed with Lance’s decision to tagalong, and likely Scout’s lack of refusal at his request, Daryl moved towards the right side of the store to clear it on his own; leaving Scout to the left side of the store with Lance lurking behind her the entire time. Scout approached the line of changing rooms along the back of the store and motioned for Lance to stop moving. Rifle pointed straight ahead, a flashlight already mounted along the barrel, Scout started methodically opening each door to check inside. 

“Can we talk?” Lance asked when she was done checking the rooms. He couldn’t believe his luck when Daryl had split from them to search the other part of the store alone. The man had been up Scout’s ass all morning, leaving Lance at a loss on how to approach her to ask if he could return to her house with them instead of staying in town.

“Kinda busy, Lance. Can’t it wait?” Scout said impatiently, without bothering to look over her shoulder at him. 

“I just want to know if I can come back with you guys, to your house. We both know I won’t make it out here on my own. No one makes it on their own for too long.” Lance kicked a fallen box out of the way and followed Scout down the next isle. 

“I made it on my own. You’ll be fine.” Scout rolled her eyes and quickly shone the light beneath a rack of clothes before heading down the next isle. 

“But wouldn’t it be better for you if I did? I mean, that way you won’t be alone when they all leave in a few months? Just because you can survive alone doesn’t mean you have to.” Lance couldn’t believe his good fortune when he’d overheard Rick and Michonne discussing what supplies they would and wouldn’t be able to take with them when their group moved on in the summer. And, while Daryl wasn’t part of the conversation himself and the other two had actually mentioned that he might not be coming with them, Lance didn’t feel the need to clarify that information to Scout. It was best for him for Scout to think that Daryl was planning to leave with his group. “Do you really want to be all by yourself when they all leave?”

“What do you know about that? About their leaving?” Scout stopped in her tracks, her heart sinking a little at the thought of being alone once again. 

“Well, I mean, they were all talking about it earlier. I was just repeating what I’d heard.” Lance couldn’t help but feel proud of himself and smirked a little bit in the darkness. 

At the rear of the store now, Scout focused in on the multicolored curtain that led in to the store room and tried to ignore Lance. Of course she knew that Rick and his family would be moving on once Maggie gave birth, but a small part of her had hoped that they would ask to stay instead. Knowing that leaving was still in their plans and that Daryl was going with them just broke her heart. Sure, she hadn’t asked him specifically if he would stay when the time comes, but the thought was definitely in her head. When the time came for them to leave, did she really want to be left all alone again? But, on the flip side, after everything that had happened which fate was worse…being alone or being with Lance? 

Failing at ignoring Lance, who was still tailing her and prodding at her to let him return to the house with them, Scout stopped and turned around to face him. “Why do you want to come back there so bad? You likely haven’t given me a moment’s thought since all of this happened? So why the sudden interest now?” She asked curiously. Surely if Lance was that interested in being with her he would have made his way out to her father’s house at some point, knowing that’s exactly where she would have gone to.

“I, well, I saw your car in town with flat tires and since none of your stuff had been touched in the apartment I thought…well, I thought you hadn’t made it.” Lance did his best to make it seem like he had actually given Scout more than a brief thought since the outbreak, when in reality the only time he had thought about her was when he first entered her apartment. 

Scout didn’t have time to respond to Lance as she was jerked backwards roughly; the cold hands of death clutching at her hair and neck. Screaming, Scout wrestled with the rotting corpse as she rammed the butt of her rifle sharply into its stomach. Thrown off balance, she struggled to remain upright while simultaneously clawing with one hand trying to grab hold of clothing in hopes of getting the creature off her back. 

Suddenly, there was a quick whiff off air near her head followed by the sickening sound of rotting flesh and bone being pierced. As the corpse slid from her back, Scout turned to find Daryl hallway across the store reloading his crossbow. Heart racing, thumping painfully loud in her chest, Scout tried to catch her breath as she glared at Lance who hadn’t bothered to offer any assistance. 

“You bit?” Daryl asked brusquely as he came to her side; not bothering to wait for an answer as he started inspecting her. Not finding any bite marks, he put his foot against the head of the corpse and pulled out the bolt lodged in its head. He looked at Scout in the dim light and couldn’t help but feel irritated that she had allowed Lance to break her concentration and allow a walker to get that close to her. He had been watching them from across the store and wondered what was so important that it couldn’t wait until they were done. “You, go the fuck outside.” Daryl snarled at Lance before turning back to Scout. “You, either pay attention or go with him.” Annoyed, he didn’t bother to wait for a response from either of them before disappearing in to the back room.

Embarrassed at being chastised, and since she was clearly in the wrong, Scout obediently did what Daryl said for her to do and followed him in to the back room. After a brief but thorough search of the storage area, they came up empty on any other walkers hiding out in the store. Upon exiting the store room, Scout lowered her rifle and reached out to touch Daryl on the arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have let Lance distract me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it happen again. I ain’t always gonna be here to save you.” Daryl bit out, still clearly aggravated by the whole situation. He immediately regretted his words, hating the look they caused in Scout’s eyes. He started to apologize, but was interrupted by the other’s returning to the store to help gather items. Instead, Daryl lowered his gaze and avoided the hurt expression on Scout’s face as he moved towards the front of the store to where Rick was.

“You’re right. You won’t be here.” Scout whispered to herself as she watched Daryl walk away from her. Anxiety knotted in her stomach as she came to the realization that he wasn’t going to be there because he wasn’t planning on staying when the others left.


	25. Chapter 25

After loading the items they’d scored from the baby store in to the back of the truck, Scout broke the news that Lance would be accompanying them back to her house; a decision she'd like to believe she hadn't made stupidly. While Rick and Michonne both seemed to be only mildly shocked, Daryl could barely suppress his annoyance and stomped around to the back door of the truck and crawled inside; slamming the door angrily behind him. 

“I couldn’t just leave him, could I?” Scout turned to ask Rick who was closing the tailgate. “I can’t have his death on my hands, too. I've got enough blood on my conscience. And we all know he won't make it much longer with all the supplies gone from my apartment."

“Daryl knows that, he just needs to calm down first to see it.” Rick put his hand comfortingly on Scout’s shoulder. He figured that Daryl likely saw Lance as a threat to his relationship with Scout and was just handling the situation the only way he knew how to, but it wasn’t Rick’s place to tell Scout. “Just give him time. He really doesn’t like Lance.” 

The ride back to her brother’s house was done so in silence. Scout did not like the fact that Daryl was crammed in to the backseat with Rick and Michonne, and that Lance was sitting next to her up front. Pulling in to the driveway, Scout put the truck in park and quickly got out.

“Grab what you can, I guess. It’s going to be a tight fit in there after all the baby stuff.” Scout hung back and let the others head inside the house, intentionally lingering so she could talk to Daryl. “Hey, um…I’m sorry for springing the Lance thing on you. He was pestering me about it earlier, about not being able to make it on his own. I couldn’t leave him there, to die. You get that, right?”

“Your house. Your choice.” Daryl spit out as moved to step around Scout. After the close call in the store and then being told that she was allowing Lance to come back to the house with them, Daryl’s mood had surpassed sour in to downright surly. “You want lover boy back in your life, that’s on you.”

“He’s not my loverboy! Lance isn’t anything to me; not like that, not anymore. I’m just helping him out. ” Scout said as Daryl turned his back to her and headed up the sidewalk. She knew that Rick said to give him time, but time wasn’t something that was guaranteed nowadays. 

“Hmmpf, you sure ‘bout that?” Daryl mumbled disbelievingly before he turned and went in to the house; leaving Scout standing alone on the sidewalk. He didn’t know what all needed to be said between the two of them, but he damn well knew the conversation needed to wait until they had at least a shred of privacy. He was angry and confused, the events of the past two days had thrown him for a loop and processing them wasn’t something he had experience with. What Scout had said yesterday about him had left Daryl hopeful about whatever was going on between them, but then she had not said anything else about it. Then today, as though the argument between her and Lance had never happened, as though she had never uttered the words that had caused his heart and hopes to be lifted, Scout had turned around and invited her ex-fiancé to move in with her. 

Later, after they had packed nearly every free inch of space in the truck with items from her brother’s house, Scout drove everyone back to her house. Once there, they were forced to park at the end of the driveway due to the locked gate, as well as the trees she and her brother had cut down to fall across the driveway at the beginning of the turn. Sadly, this meant that they would have to spend the next several hours in the dark unloading all the pilfered items from the truck and have to lug them the rest of the way to the house. Luckily, after the initial trip, everyone in the house walked down to help; with the exception to Maggie, who was forced to stay behind with Judith. 

Once everything was unloaded and piled around the living room and dining room, Scout made introductions and explained the situation with Lance before letting Maggie loose to inspect what items they had managed to locate for her and the baby. During this, Scout didn’t fail to notice the look that Carol and Daryl shared at the opposite end of the room and while she tried to focus on Maggie’s excitement, she couldn’t help but worry about Daryl.

“It’s like I got a baby shower after all!” Maggie gushed as she thoroughly inspected each and every piece of clothing and other baby related items. “Thank ya’ll for this.”

“This is more than we expected.” Glenn chimed in, sitting on the floor next to his wife. He picked up a tiny pair of teddy bear house shoes from one box; both barely filling the palm of his hand they were so small. “Is it weird to be more afraid of what’s going to wear these than a walker?”

“Not at all. When Lori was pregnant with Carl the sight of his car seat caused me to panic. I couldn’t imagine driving around with him in the backseat.” Rick chuckled and took a seat on the couch next to his son. “I know I should have been more scared with Judith, and I guess I was at first, but now…I know she’s in good hands.”

Before long it was bedtime, so they quickly put away what they could and put forth a valiant effort in trying to find a good place to put all the baby stuff. Most of it was carted upstairs to Glenn and Maggie’s bedroom, while some was shoved in closets or in the corner of the living room. After such an exhausting trip, all Scout wanted to do was take a shower and at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Before doing so, she made sure Lance had blankets and clothes to change in to after a shower and told him to pick a couch in the living room. He seemed put out at the thought of sleeping on a couch when everyone else got a bed, but apparently thought better about arguing the fact.

Before she got in to the shower, Scout took the time to build a fire since the bedroom was bordering on freezing tonight. When Scout got out of the shower and gave her teeth a much needed scrubbing, she dressed quickly in a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top before crawling in between the sheets with a sigh of contentment. Obviously more tired than she originally thought, she fell asleep almost immediately, never noticing that Daryl had not come to bed, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos!!


	26. Chapter 26

Out on the porch, Daryl lit up a second cigarette in an obvious attempt at postponing the awkward bedtime situation. Part of him hoped that Scout would come out and drag him in to her bedroom, but the other part wanted to avoid explaining why he had not already went in there himself. Exhaling, he leaned his head against the vinyl siding and was fiddling nervously with the cigarette between his fingers when Carol came outside.

“Hey,” She said with a smile as she joined him on the bench. “Everyone seems to have gone to bed already. Thought I’d check on you before I did the same. You doing ok?”

“I’m fine.” Daryl leaned forward and took another drag off the cigarette; exhaling before bringing his hand to his mouth to chew on his thumbnail. “Scout in bed, too?”

“She never came back out after her shower. Poor thing seemed like she was dead on her feet when ya’ll got back though, so I wouldn’t doubt that she’s asleep.” Carol tightened her grip on her sweater and pulled it tighter around her. The air had grown colder tonight than it had been on the previous nights and there was a moistness lingering too that led her to think they might get some snow or ice soon. “Daryl, I have to ask…what’s going on with you two? Is it that Lance guy or did something else happen because everyone noticed the tension in there tonight.”

“I don’t know.” Daryl mumbled almost incoherently as he ground out his cigarette before tossing it in to the empty can by the bench.

“You do too know, you just don’t want to talk about it.” Carol pointed out. “Do you love her?”

“Maybe. Yes? Hell, I don’t know. Never been in love before.” Daryl stood up and walked to the edge of the porch where he leaned against one of the columns. He loved Judith, Carol and the rest of their group, but that was just a family type of love. He wasn’t in love with any of them. Hell, the closest he had been to having any feelings of that level prior to Scout had been with Beth and he didn’t even know what those feelings had really been about. “What am I supposed to do about it though? This…us being here…wasn't never meant to be permanent.”

“Talk to her, Daryl. Nothing ever gets accomplished without talking to one another.” Carol stood up and crossed to Daryl to give him a quick hug; something he would have never allowed barely a year ago. “Thing is, plans change. What you have to figure out is what your answer would be if she asked you to stay.”

After Carol went back in to the house to go to bed, Daryl stayed on the porch and smoked another cigarette. There was no denying, even to himself, that he was stalling for time. By the time he finally went back inside the house was dark and quiet, letting him know that he was the only one left awake. He briefly considered going to Scout’s bedroom, but in the end, he chickened out and flopped down on the unoccupied couch in the living room; Lance was already out cold and snoring peacefully on the other couch. Arms crossed over his chest, Daryl laid in the dark, unable to sleep due to the obnoxious sounds coming from across the room. He closed his eyes in hopes that sheer exhaustion would take over and let him sleep at some point.

Scout couldn’t sleep. She had managed maybe an hour or so, but had woken up a while ago and had not been able to go back to sleep since then. The empty side of the bed annoyed her. After weeks of sharing a bed with Daryl, it seemed that his absence was the reason she was unable to go back to sleep. Sighing, she crawled out of bed and went to find him.

Tiptoeing in to the living room, Scout could tell by the sounds coming from one couch that it was Lance who was sleeping there and not Daryl. So, she crossed the room slowly until her legs bumped against the edge of the other couch. Reaching out, she tapped him on the shins and whispered to him. “Daryl, wake up.”

“I ain’t asleep. What are you doing up?” Daryl muttered, intentionally keeping his voice low so that they didn’t risk waking up Lance. Although if they did wake him up at least the incessant snoring would stop.

“Why didn’t you come to bed in my room? You hate the couch.” Scout inched her way around the couch in the darkness.

“Didn’t want to bother you.” Daryl shrugged although he doubted she could see him well on the couch; the fire having died down to a warm glow and no longer giving off much light.

“You don’t bother me.” Scout reached out, scooting her hand across the couch cushion until she found his arm. Wrapping her hand around the warm flesh of his bicep, Scout slid her hand down until she was able to intertwine her fingers through his. “I can’t sleep without you.”

Daryl wanted to resist. He didn’t want to love her, didn’t want to need her, didn’t want his body to crave her the way it did. But, there was something in her voice when she admitted to not being able to sleep without him that twisted in his heart. Sitting up, Daryl put his feet on the ground and stood up; pulling Scout to her feet along with him. Silently, he allowed Scout to lead him through the darkness to her bedroom.

Once inside, the light from the fireplace was ever so slightly brighter than the one in the living room having been lit more recently than the other, Scout turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

“I ain’t mad at you, Scout.” Daryl admitted as he put his hands on her face and tilted it upwards so he could look in to her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Daryl did what Carol told him to. “I’m mad at him. The way he talked to you, how he treated you. The fact that piece of shit is out there. You deserved better than that…than him.”

“I’ve got better than him.” Scout whispered with a shy smile; butterflies filled her stomach and her heart beat wildly in her chest. Without breaking eye contact, Scout tentatively pressed her lips against his softly, kissing him. “I love you, not him.” She muttered bravely against his unmoving lips. Scout hadn’t realized that she was in love with Daryl until they found Lance in her apartment. It had taken seeing her ex to make her realize that she had never felt about anyone the way she felt about Daryl.

Her lips were so soft; much softer than Daryl remembered them being. He was frozen, surrounded by the sweet scent of the warm vanilla lotion she wore to bed, with Scout’s lips pressed against his. For a moment he didn’t know what to do; soft and gentle wasn’t something he was accustomed to. But, it was her words muttered against his lips that broke his resolve. No one had ever told him they loved him; not his parents, not his brother, no one.

Daryl was finally kissing her; a slow soft kiss that was completely different from their first kiss. There was no hurried exchange, no teeth crushing against her lips to bust them open, and no frenzied attempts to disrobe. Instead, he was tender, tentative as his lips pressed against hers, his tongue gently slipped between her lips to caress hers as his hands eased down her body to settle against her hips. Scout tangled her hands in his hair and sighed contently against his lips when he pulled her tightly against him.

Without breaking their embrace, they moved towards the bed as one. Scout felt the edge of the mattress against the back of her legs and somewhat clumsily maneuvered herself onto the bed while managing not to leave Daryl’s arms. There on the bed, in the warm glow of the fireplace, Daryl slipped his arm around Scout’s narrow waist and pulled her up the bed with him until her head was on a pillow. Then, he settled himself between her legs as his lips explored the soft skin of her neck, dipping down to kiss her collarbone lightly before returning to her lips.

Scout wanted to run her hands over Daryl, to feel his skin pressed against hers. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt and slowly eased it upwards until he allowed her to take it off and toss it aside. She pressed her hands against his stomach and inched them upwards slowly, relishing the feel of his chest hair against the palms of her hands; she liked that he wasn’t covered in thick bushy hair. Tangled in his embrace, Scout felt dizzy with his scent and briefly wondered how someone who showered as little as Daryl did could manage to smell as delicious as he did.

That night, they did something that Scout had not done since high school, something that Daryl had never done in his lifetime. They kissed, explored, touched, caressed, and kissed some more. That night, they made out for hours, like teenagers. Finally, as the fire died down to just a few glowing embers, they crawled beneath the covers and fell asleep in one another’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a bunch for the reviews and kudos. I love them...and so does muse. :D Hope you all like this chapter...FINALLY some Daryl and Scout love!


	27. Chapter 27

Soft golden hues from the rising sun was slowly starting to fill the room when Scout woke suddenly; shivering despite being buried beneath a mound of bedcovers. The fire had long since died, leaving the room with little warmth, and since Daryl was halfway across the bed Scout couldn’t rely on his body heat anymore either. Rolling over, Scout inched across the bed towards where Daryl was snoozing peacefully, seemingly unaware of the winter chill seeping in to the bedroom since half of his covers were flung aside. His bare back was facing her, a sight Scout had never seen before in spite of the fact that they had shared a room for months. Her eyes adjusted to the pale light, allowing her to see the details of his bare skin. First thing she noticed were the tattoos across his right shoulder blades and she scooted closer to inspect what looked like two demons and she couldn’t help but recall the first time she had seen him, took notice of the wings on his vest, and thought he was anything but an angel. She knew better than that now. 

As the sunshine grew brighter in the room her eyes were drawn to the ugly dark scars that crisscrossed Daryl’s back. Scout had worked enough abuse cases in her career to know what the marks marring his bare skin meant. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about what hell he must have had to endure in his life, and realized that he was a survivor long before the outbreak. With a shaky hand, Scout couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and trace the course of the longest scar and felt his body tense instinctively when her fingers found their mark. 

Scout closed the small gap between them, pressing her body against his no longer seeking his warmth, but needing to offer comfort now. She dipped her head down and placed soft kisses along the darkened marks; knowing she could never heal all the hurt inside. Her path of kisses ended at the demons on his shoulder, Scout pressed her cheek against the artwork and slipped an arm around his torso to hold him tight; relishing when he sought out her hand and pulled it against his chest. 

A little while later, Scout was awakened once more, this time by the sound of Daryl rustling around in the bedroom. “Morning.” She murmured sleepily as she stretched.

“Morning. Sorry if I woke you up.” Daryl turned around to face Scout as he shrugged on the long sleeve shirt that had been discarded on the floor last night. It didn’t matter that she had already seen the scars on his back; old habits die hard. 

“I should probably do something productive anyway.” Scout pushed off the bedcovers and crawled across the bed to where Daryl had sat down to put on his boots. She sat behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, and was happy to see that he didn’t pull away. “You want to go hunting or did we sleep the day away?”

“Nah, it’s still early enough. I think Carol’s just starting breakfast. We can go after.” Daryl turned to face Scout. He wanted to talk to her about last night, about her seeing his scars this morning, but when he turned to face her he couldn’t. Brushing back a piece of hair from her face, the wild mane of chocolate locks seemed even more unruly than normal, and said, “Looks like a rats nest.”

“Yours isn’t much better.” Scout laughed and reached out to brush back the mess of hair from his face. When the strands were sufficiently pushed back and she could see his face better, Scout smiled. “There, that’s better. I can see you now.”

“Hmmpf, why’d you want to do that for?” Daryl replied, shaking his head so his hair fell back across his face. 

“Because I like looking at you.” Scout reached out and pushed his hair back again, this time leaving her hands there to hold it in place. Leaning in, Scout pressed her lips against his, kissing Daryl deeply. There was once a time when morning breath would have sent her to the bathroom before kissing someone, but with Daryl…for some reason it didn’t bother her. 

Daryl deepened the kiss, not shying away from her embrace, and pushed Scout back on to the bed. Desire surged within him, his body hardened as he pressed against Scout’s heated center; her hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he rocked against her. Daryl slipped his hand beneath the tight material of her tank top, wanting to touch her silken skin. He’d made it halfway up her torso, coming to rest just below the swell of her breast when there was a knock at the door. Groaning as their kiss ended, he called out with a clearly irritated voice, “What?”

“Breakfast is ready if you two are eating.” Carol said from the other side of the door. The next voice that Daryl heard was that of Glenn, who called out loudly from the kitchen, “Hey, Daryl? You coming?”

Daryl rested his forehead against Scout’s and chuckled. It seemed like eons ago when he had stood outside the guard tower and yelled out the same thing to Glenn. He’d actually thought that Glenn had never put two and two together to figure out what Daryl had meant, but clearly his question this morning showed that he had. Daryl thought briefly about hollering back and saying he wasn’t coming, but thought better about it since he didn’t want to embarrass Scout. Plus, whether they were or were not coming was clearly none of his family’s business. 

After Daryl stood up, he held out a hand and pulled Scout to her feet. “You can go on out. I, um, I’m going to need a minute.” When Scout looked at him questioningly, he gestured towards his pants where his crotch was still standing at attention. 

Scout blushed profusely and nodded, “Oh, um, ok. Come out when you can then.” Scout leaned in and brushed a light kiss across his lips before grabbing a sweatshirt out of a dresser drawer; heading out the bedroom door while she pulled it on over her head. 

When she walked in to the kitchen, all food preparation stopped as everyone turned to look at her and Scout was suddenly very aware of her mussed hair, kiss swollen lips and the inevitable rosy red marks on her face from Daryl’s scruff. Blushing yet again, she mumbled a nearly inaudible good morning and shuffled to the back of the line behind Sasha.

From somewhere near the head of the line, Scout nearly died when she heard what she thought was Michonne say, “They clearly made up.”

During breakfast, crammed around the dining room table that was now at full capacity with the newest arrival, the group was full of questions for Lance. They were clearly ready to take advantage of having someone in the house that knew Scout and eagerly grilled him for information since their host wasn’t known for being one to talk about herself much. 

Fully engrossed in the fact that Daryl’s hand was on her leg, Scout paid little attention to the conversation that was going on around her. Who cared if everyone knew that she slept with a teddy bear until after college or that she cried when watching Disney cartoons? What really mattered was that Daryl’s hand which had started out near her knee, massaging the area lightly as he ate his breakfast, but was now slowly moving up her thigh; his fingers dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. Scout’s mind suddenly snapped back to attention though when she heard Sasha ask Lance what had caused the two of them to break up. 

“Oh, we don’t have to discuss that.” Scout interrupted and glared at Lance, who instantly paused midsentence. “Surely we can save some uncomfortable topics for dinner, right?” 

“I was just going to say that I screwed things up, that’s all.” Lance actually appeared to be apologetic, but after years of dealing with him and seeing him in court, Scout doubted she could trust him. Although his words were directed towards Sasha, his eyes never left Scout when he said, “Scout’s great. I messed up and lost her.”

“Yeah, well, gonna keep it that way, too.” Daryl muttered under his breath, but not so low that the other’s did not hear him. He hadn’t liked Lance from the beginning and his instincts were telling him that the guy couldn’t be trusted; that Lance clearly had an ulterior motive for weaseling his way back in to Scout’s life. 

“Oh!” Scout damn near jumped out of her skin when Daryl’s hand tightened around her upper thigh possessively; brushing slightly against the sensitive juncture that was covered only by a thin layer of cotton. When faced with several questioning stares, she scooted away from the table and announced, “Hunting! I need to go get dressed.”

Disappearing quickly in to her bedroom, Scout leaned against the closed door and tried to regain at least a smidgeon of her composure. Eventually, she got ready to go hunting with Daryl; brushing her teeth, washing her face and pulling her hair into a ponytail. Prepared for the cold, Scout was dressed in double lined pants, a sweater, wool lined boots and a thick hunting coat when she left the bedroom to go find Daryl; locating him on the back porch.

“Ready?” Scout asked as she gathered up her bow and quiver full of arrows. “Grayer out here than I thought it was, looks like it might rain later.”

“We’ll stick close to the house then.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow and followed Scout out in to the yard, where Rick and Carl were busy doing their daily chores of checking the fence line and feeding the goats and chickens. Daryl nodded a goodbye in their direction and headed towards the fence line on the other side of the house, Scout in tow.

Back inside the house, Tyrese picked Judith up out of the high chair they’d found tucked away in the storage closet upstairs and went upstairs to clean her up from breakfast. If someone had told him before the outbreak that he would essentially become a nanny to a little girl, Tyrese would have laughed in their face. But now, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He was too big and bulky to go hunting, his lumbering gait always warned the wildlife of his arrival. He hated gardening and dealing with livestock, too. So, unless he wanted to do laundry and clean the house, the only other option was to take care of Judith…and that suited Tyrese just fine. After wiping off the pureed vegetables the baby had managed to get in her nose and behind her ears, Tyrese had carried her back downstairs and in to the living room where they had an eventful day of blocks and baby dolls ahead of them.

Maggie and Glenn had retreated upstairs to start making beds and gathering up laundry. Michonne and Sasha helped clear the dining room table while Carol filled the sink to start washing the dishes. Lance, however, looked very much out of place and confused as to what he needed to do. 

“Everyone’s got a job around here.” Carol informed him as she added soap to the water. “I take it you can’t hunt since Scout didn’t bother to take you with them.” Not that Carol really thought Daryl would have allowed it if Lance could have hunted or not. When Lance admitted that he not only couldn’t hunt, but he’d never even fired a gun before, Carol continued, “Well, Rick and Carl are dealing with the livestock, but that shouldn’t take long. So, it’s either laundry duty or cleaning the house, your choice.”

“I’m ashamed to say I’ve also never washed clothes. I always sent them out to be done.” Lance admitted sheepishly. “And I had a maid.”

“A man of few skills, huh?” Carol sighed impatiently, instantly reminded of her good for nothing husband, Ed, who had preferred to sit around barking orders at her to do everything around the house instead of actually chipping in. At least Lance didn't appear to be the type to raise his hand if his way wasn't instantly granted, or that was Carol's take on him anyway. But, if men like Rick and Daryl could chip in and clean the house when needed, then she’d be damned if Lance couldn’t. She crossed the room and opened the storage closet to pull out a bucket filled with various household cleaners and rags. “Looks like you get dusting and bathroom duty.”

Lance took the bucket with a grimace and wondered what in the hell had happened in the world when someone with a law degree and his own practice was forced in to scrubbing bathrooms while some redneck piece of white trash thug was glorified because he could kill an animal. Grumbling, Lance disappeared down the hallway towards the downstairs bathroom; cursing whomever was responsible for how his life had turned out.


	28. Chapter 28

Several hours later, in the woods not far from the house, Scout leaned over and collected the rabbit she had just killed and noticed tiny white flakes landing on the ground beside her. Standing up, she turned her head towards the gray covered sky and smiled, "I figured we would get rain, but I'd much rather have the snow."

"Ain't never been a fan of snow." Daryl frowned at the falling snowflakes with distaste. Coming from a family that could barely afford a roof over their heads, much less consistent heating, the winter months and all of its glorious aspects had never been welcomed in his previous life. 

"So long as we keep all of the fireplaces going we should be warm enough. Thank goodness there's four of them in the house. Of course, everyone upstairs will need to sleep with their doors open to benefit from the one up there and Carl should probably move downstairs for the time being. The attic is fairly insulated, but can get a little drafty at times." Scout tucked the rabbit on the rope with the other creatures tied there and motioned to Daryl that she was ready to move on. "We should try to get a few more kills before heading in, if possible."

"Yeah, damned well don't want to be tromping through the woods in the snow anyhow." Daryl replied as he headed down the pathway, carefully avoiding the pit to his left; carefully disguised with branches and ever so slightly marked by a notch in a nearby tree. 

Several hours later, Scout closed the gate behind Daryl as he trudged through the opening weighted down by the good sized doe perched on his shoulders. While they had bagged a couple small does previously, this one had to be over a hundred pounds and she was impressed that he managed to carry the beast so elegantly. While she had a few rabbits and one fairly large turkey, she was having daydreams of using the old meat grinder to make some venison burgers with that lovely doe later. Scout was fairly certain that she would sell a kidney at this point in her life for a good bacon cheeseburger, but would have to make due with a venison patty instead. 

Once at the house, Daryl tossed the deer down next to the processing area and set about trussing it up to start cleaning it when Rick and Carl came outside. He motioned to the deer on the ground and said, "Didn't think we'd get this much, but damn thing strolled out as we were heading back."

"We're lucky it did. Snow looks like it’s starting to stick real good now." Rick motioned to the fine layer of white flakes on the ground around them. "Carl and I will take care of this. Ya'll go on inside and warm up."

"Nah, it's getting late. We can get it done faster if I stay. Scout can go on inside." Daryl started tying up the deer to hoist it up and clean it. 

"Not gonna argue with ya'll." Scout handed over the rope with her kills to Carl and turned to head inside. "I hate the cleaning part. Plus, Carl's better at it than me."

"Great. Just what I wanted to be great at." Carl replied with a sour look. What he really wanted to do was go hunting, but his dad had decided that he was more useful elsewhere. Although, Carl was fairly certain his dad just didn't want to bother Daryl by asking him to take his son along. 

"Well, thank you for doing it anyway. I know it's no fun, but I appreciate it." Scout paused and looked over to where Rick and Daryl were dealing with the deer before whispering, "Maybe we'll get him to let you go with us soon."

"Yeah, good luck with that. I'd love to, but I don't think my dad wants me to." Carl sighed and offered at least a half smile before turning away from Scout and heading over to where his dad was. 

Scout watched as Carl joined the others and decided to ask Rick about it later. Teaching Carl to hunt, especially with a bow, could benefit their group later down the road. Daryl couldn't be responsible for providing food for them forever. Having a third person that could bring in a reasonable amount of meat would alleviate stress while their group was at her house, plus once they left the skill would be beneficial to them then. Although, Scout didn't really want to think about how things would be after everyone left. 

With a heavy heart, she turned and went up the stairs into the back porch where she toed off her wet boots and left them by the door. Once inside, she hung her bow and quiver on the hook along with her coat before heading to the sink to wash her hands. No one was in the kitchen, which was odd being that it had to be getting close to dinner time, but maybe Carol had already prepared something earlier that just needed to be heated. As she was drying her hands, Carol came through the kitchen door with a bucket full of cleaning supplies. 

"That man is absolutely useless." Carol said matter-of-factly, as she stowed the bucket in the kitchen closet. "You bit the bullet not marrying him, if you don't mind me saying."

"I don't mind at all, actually. I've known that for a while." Scout laughed and leaned against the counter. "What'd he do this time? Or, what didn't he do?"

"After breakfast we came to the realization that he had little to no skills, but I never thought he'd be able to screw up cleaning bathrooms and dusting. Sheesh. I had to go back over nearly everything he claimed he cleaned." Carol headed over to the pantry and started collecting items for dinner. "Took me so long that I haven't gotten dinner started yet."

"Shit. I'm sorry. I should've thought about that sooner. He's never been much for doing anything that got his hands dirty. Well, literally anyway. Here, let me help you." Scout crossed the kitchen and took some items from Carol's arms. "Honestly, I probably need to do some cooking. I've gotten spoiled having you here. I'll probably be eating straight from the can again when you guys leave."

"I enjoy it." Carol put the cans and boxes on the counter and shrugged. "I'm going to miss having a kitchen when we hit the road again. Really feels like home here. Sure, we had a home at the prison, but it was still a dank cement building with bars."

"Ya'll never mentioned where you were going exactly. Something about the coast, I think? Not that I blame you. If it weren't for everything I have here I'd be at the beach, too." Scout thought back to the last time she'd been to the beach and realized it had been before her sister was killed; their last family vacation. She and Lance had planned on a honeymoon somewhere tropical, but had never finalized anything and well, never made it there. 

"Yes, this small town off the coast. We had a few other people with us that went on out there, while we hung back since we didn't want to travel during the winter with Judith. One of them had family there and we were going to see if we could make it to their beach house." Carol dumped some vegetables in to a pot and started stirring it. She wondered if the other group ever made it to their destination. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't continue on with them since Maggie ended up pregnant."

"I can't imagine walking that far, much less pregnant." Scout paused and considered her next words carefully. "I don't know how to say this without it being morbid, but how do you know if they even made it? It's a long way to the coast."

"There's no way to be sure, short of going there and seeing for ourselves. But, Abraham's former military and the girls, Rosita and Tara, are both capable enough. Noah's young, but eager to help out and learn. The only one that could slow them down would be Eugene. Nothing but book smarts, that one." Carol put a lid on the pot and dumped the pasta in to the other pot full of boiling water. "I guess we'll see when we get there."

Scout had wanted to ask Carol what she thought about not going to their original destination and see how she felt about just staying put; testing the waters so to speak. However, knowing that they had other members of their group already there, she decided not to. Scout knew that if there were people she cared about waiting for her elsewhere, she wouldn't just decide not to go to them and figured neither would Daryl and his family. It seemed as though their departure was inevitable and she would be left with just Lance at some point. The thought was seriously depressing.

Outside, Rick watched while Daryl very efficiently and quickly disemboweled the doe. While he and Carl were capable of doing the task themselves, there was no denying the fact that Daryl was better at it. Rick stepped forward and grabbed the bucket full of organs they weren’t saving to be disposed of elsewhere and moved it out of the way, while Daryl started skinning the animal.

"Daryl, I...uh, I have to ask," Rick stammered a bit, unsure of how to broach the subject of his intentions regarding Scout. "You and Scout? Ya'll have gotten pretty close and I was just wondering...well, have you thought about what you're going to do when the time comes to leave? You considering staying here?"

"Well, she ain't asked. So, it ain't an issue." Daryl tugged the last bit of skin off the doe and tossed it to the ground. Of course he'd thought about not leaving and just staying with Scout, but he also didn't want to leave his family. What happened if he stayed behind and something happened to Scout? What, was he just going to spend his days with Lance? He could try to make it to the coast to find the others if something did happen, but that long of a trek by himself wasn't likely to have the best outcome.

Rick thought it odd that Scout hadn't mentioned anything to Daryl about him staying with her. Anyone could take one look at Scout when she was with Daryl and know that she was in love, so why wouldn't she want to keep him with her? The whole thing seemed suspicious to Rick and he wondered just how close the two of them were, how much of a relationship they actually had. Was it possible that the relationship that everyone assumed that Daryl and Scout had wasn't actually what they presumed? Daryl had been sleeping in her room for months, albeit the first part of that was either in a chair or on the floor according to Carol, but still...that's more than Daryl had ever done with anyone else. 

"But, you two are...I mean, there is..." Rick fumbled about trying to figure out what it and how to ask what was on his mind. It was difficult enough to have personal conversations, much less when it was being had with Daryl. 

"What? You asking if Scout's my girlfriend? Hell, it ain't like we're swapping notes in class or nothing, Rick." Daryl shook his head, wondering exactly the point of this conversation was. Rick had never bothered to have personal discussions with him before, so why now? "What are you getting at?"

"You're family, Daryl. You're my brother. I'm just trying to figure out where we stand as far as the future." Rick went over to help steady the doe while Daryl started sectioning off parts of meat. ""There isn't anyone here who wouldn't want to see you happy, but not having you with us? That's just not right."

Daryl placed a chunk of meat in to the container Carl had gotten for them. He stopped for a moment and stared at Rick; chewing on his lip for a moment before saying, "You ever considered not going? Asking Scout to stay? Ain't like no one’s in a hurry to leave."

"I've considered it, sure. Making a home, settling in. Sounds a lot better than being on the road again." Rick shrugged and stared over Daryl's shoulder towards the house. "We could make a life here if Scout wanted us to. I just don't know if she does."

"Not gonna know nothing until we ask." Daryl followed Rick's line of sight, looking through the kitchen window to where Carol and Scout were working on dinner. "I ain't in no hurry to leave."

"We should at least ask the other's what they think. No point stirring the pot with Scout unless we're all in agreement." Rick turned to where Carl was cleaning the smaller game; knowing full well his son had been paying apt attention to the conversation. "What's your thoughts on it, Carl?"

"The beach would be nice." Carl started, looking up to make eye contact with his dad. "But, honestly, I like it here. I think we should stay." 

"Well, that's three of us then. I'll check in with the others when I can do so privately and see what they think." Rick went back to holding the deer for Daryl, dropping the conversation since the sun was rapidly disappearing and they needed to get the deer taken care of before it got too dark to do so.

Rick hoped that the rest of the group wanted to stay and that if they did, Scout would agree to it. While doing so meant they'd never see Abe, Rosita, Tara, Noah and Eugene again, it meant that the ones he considered to be his family would be safe. Or, at least safer than they would be being on the road again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos! I love them!


	29. Chapter 29

That night after dinner, Rick was able to pull Michonne and Carol aside while they cleaned off the table; the others having disappeared in to the living room for their nightly game of cards. 

"I need to talk to you both." Rick started, gathering up a stack of plates he headed into the kitchen for further privacy. Once they were all three in the kitchen, he turned to the women and asked, "How would ya'll feel about asking Scout if we stay here permanently? Would that be of any interest?"

"Why? Has Daryl mentioned it? Did Scout say something to him?" Carol inquired. The thought had crossed her mind more than once to say something to Scout, but had never gotten around to asking Rick what his thoughts were on the idea first. She had grown quite accustomed to the home and if Scout was on board, she could easily see their family working well here. 

"Well, no, she hasn't said anything to me or Daryl." Rick admitted. He leaned a hip on the counter and asked, "So, she hasn't mentioned anything to either of you?"

"If she hasn't said anything to Daryl do you really think she would have said something to us?" Michonne piped in to make a very valid point. "Daryl hasn't been asked, do you really think she'd ask us first?"

"You're right. I want to ask everyone else what they're feelings are about staying before I go to her though. So, the both of you would be on board if Scout is alright with it?" Rick asked.

"Absolutely. It'd be a little cramped, but I think it would work." Carol said with a smile as she slipped past Rick to start the dishes. "And I believe the other's will agree." 

"If Carol doesn't mind sharing a room permanently with me, I'm in." Michonne joked. "But, in all seriousness, do we really think Scout will agree?"

"I think as long as Daryl stays, she won't care who else is here. But, we'll find out soon enough, I guess." Rick pushed off the counter and passed the stack of dishes that were next to him to Carol before heading in to the other room to join the others.

In the living room, Scout was sitting on the floor with her back leaned against the couch where Daryl was sitting. A roaring fire filled the room with warmth and a golden, flickering glow as Carl, Sasha, and Glenn played poker in the middle of the room. Maggie was on the couch opposite of Daryl while Tyrese rocked Judith in the recliner. Lance had excused himself after dinner and went outside without offering an explanation.

Curious about the situation outdoors, Scout got to her feet and peeked out the window, but was unable to really tell how things were looking out there.

"I'm gonna go smoke." Daryl announced when Rick walked in to the room. He knew that Rick wanted to talk to the others, so he grabbed Scout's hand and pulled her in the direction of the front door. "Come with me."

Rick smiled as they passed, thankful that Daryl was able to create a distraction for Scout so he could talk to the others. Once the front door clicked shut, he took a seat next to Maggie and got the attention of his group quickly. "While they're outside, I need to know what ya'll think about staying here, permanently. Scout hasn't said anything, but if everyone is on board with the idea, I'm going to ask her if it's ok."

"I'm in." Tyrese chimed in instantly. "Being on the road's not safe. Certainly not a place to raise children either."

"I agree. If Scout says she's ok with it, I would like to stay. I don't want to be out there, traveling, with our baby." Maggie's hand instinctually went to her belly to rest on top of the almost nonexistent baby bump. 

"I'm with Maggie. If she wants to stay, then I want to stay." Glenn laid his cards down and turned serious. "What about the others though? Abe? Noah and the girls? Even Eugene. We did promise them we'd meet up with them." After getting conked on the head, they were surprised that Eugene wanted to continue on with his group instead of holing up with them for the winter, but chalked it up to wanting to be with the people he knew best. Father Gabriel had started out planning on going with them, but after a nasty infection from the cut on his foot had spread further in to his system, he had passed away not long before their groups had parted ways. 

"We don't even know if they made it to the coast." Sasha pointed out. "I'd rather stay here than risk traveling that far. It's too dangerous out there."

"I know we said we'd meet them, but they're not my family. Y'all are my family." Rick leaned back against the house. He was relieved that everyone wanted to stay, now he just had to get Scout to agree. "My first priority is making sure y'all are safe. I was willing to make the trip to D.C. when there was the possibility of a cure, but that's gone now. Putting my family in danger just to go to the coast and meet up with the others, it's not worth it if we can make a home here. I'll talk to Daryl and see if how he wants to approach Scout, but if all goes the way I hope it will then we've found ourselves a home." 

Outside, Scout walked out in to the yard and walked in circles; delighted at the footprints that were left in the faint smattering of snow. She had always been partial to winter because with it generally came snow and she never got enough of playing in the powdery substance, even at nearly thirty years old. 

"It's coming down harder now. If this keeps up we should have a few inches tomorrow." She called out gleefully to Daryl, who was leaned against a column on the front porch watching her. "Why the sour puss? Do you really hate snow that bad?"

"It's wet and cold. Ain't got no use for it." Daryl replied. While he hated the stuff, he couldn't deny that seeing Scout so happy made it almost tolerable. "Why you like it so much?"

"She's always been that way." Lance informed him, popping out from the side of the house; a dangerous move these days, surprising someone like Daryl or Scout. "Her mother had to force her into the house when it snowed. She'd be out here playing in shorts and flip flops, half blue from cold, but happy as a clam."

"And you hated it, so why are you out here lurking around?" Scout closed the distance between her and Daryl; holding out her hand for a cigarette. 

"Just needed some air. Kind of the odd man out in there, you know." Lance slid past them and headed up the stairs. "Remember that trip we took to the mountains? I nearly broke my leg on the bunny slope, but you mastered skiing in one day. By the time I was able to get you to quit we both were on the verge of frostbite and spent most of the night in the hot tub at the cabin?"

"Yes, I remember. What's your point?" Scout cut her eyes at Daryl, who appeared to be barely controlling the urge to toss Lance down the stairs. 

"No point, really, I was just thinking about one of the good days. The way things are now? Can't hurt to remember when things weren't shitty." Lance shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall by the front door.

"I remember you getting the ski instructor's phone number, so you may recall things a little different than I do. It wasn't that great for me." Scout replied sarcastically. Turning to Daryl, she held out her hand and said, "Take a walk with me?"

"What's his deal?" Daryl asked once they were a good distance away from Lance, who was still on the front porch staring after them. 

"Other than he's an ass? Lance is just used to being important, you know? Women used to fawn over him back when we were together." Scout shrugged and took a drag off her cigarette; exhaling before continuing. "He's attractive, had a moderate amount of power with his job, family money, and he can be charming when he wants to be. Hell, took me a long time before I realized his charm was only skin deep. But those things don't matter now. I guess he's having a hard time figuring out where he fits in. Plus, he's totally jealous of you."

"Me? What the hell for?" Daryl used the tips of his thumb and forefinger to crush out the ember on the end of his cigarette butt and shoved the filter in to his pocket to throw away later. "Ain't no guy like that jealous of someone like me."

"Maybe with the way things were, sure. But now? You can hunt, provide meals, you're strong. What's he? An attorney that can't even clean a bathroom because in his former life he paid someone to do that for him? Why wouldn't he be jealous of you?" Scout pointed out as she followed suit and crushed out her cigarette.

"You put it that way," Daryl dipped his head and shrugged. "Just assumed you meant because of you."

"Well, that, too...maybe." Scout smiled, put her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. "But not because he actually wants me. It's just because I don't want him."

"But he's here." Daryl pointed out. "And he'll be here after..." He let the sentence drop, not wanting to finish the thought. He wondered how Rick's conversation was going with the others, if they wanted to stay, too. But, most of all, Daryl wondered if Scout wanted them to stay. If she wanted him to stay. Afraid of rejection though, Daryl let the conversation drop and looked up to the sky, where heavy flakes were falling at a rapid rate. "Think you're going to get your wish."

Scout knew Daryl was referring to the snow, but what he didn't know was that what she wanted most of all was for him to not leave. She wondered if that wish was even possible. Now that she knew that part of their group had went ahead to locate a place for them to stay, Scout figured that Daryl's leaving was inevitable. He was loyal after all, and if he'd made a promise to meet them at the coast then she knew he would leave. But, a girl could hope, couldn't she? Maybe her wish would come true and Daryl would ask to stay with her.

While Daryl's attention was turned toward the sky, Scout studied the lines of his face and wistfully replied, "I hope so, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oodles of thanks for the kudos and reviews!


	30. Chapter 30

Back in the house, they both kicked off their boots by the door before Daryl reclaimed his seat on the couch by the fire with Scout sitting in the floor between his legs. She was turned slightly sideways so that she could rest her head on his thigh and Daryl absentmindedly played with her hair while staring in to the fire. When they'd come back inside, Rick was rocking Judith to sleep in the recliner and had given him an almost unperceivable nod to let him know the others were on board with the plan and now Daryl wondered how long it would be before they knew Scout's thoughts on the idea. 

Lost in thought, Daryl didn't pay attention to what was going on in the room until he heard the sounds of people moving about. Realizing that everyone was cleaning up their activities to go to bed, Daryl looked down to find Scout asleep with her head on his thigh. He hated to wake her, but knew it had to be done. 

"Hmmpf..." Scout mumbled incoherently as Daryl nudged her awake. Blinking sleepily, she sat up so that Daryl could get off the couch. 

"Time for bed." Daryl reached out to Scout and helped her up. She swayed on her feet, an indicator of just how tired she was and Daryl considered picking her up to carry her to bed, but she shuffled off in the direction of the bedroom; tugging him along behind her. 

Daryl locked the door behind them, not out of concern of safety, but knowing that she couldn't sleep with it unlocked. While Scout was in the bathroom, he set about building a fire that would be strong enough to last most of the night. When he was done, Daryl stood up and turned around about the time Scout came out of the bathroom. Even dressed in thick flannel pajamas, he thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Daryl didn't know if he was in love with Scout or not, but he thought that was due to the fact he had never been in love to know what it felt like. But, he knew that what he felt towards her was special. It was like what he had felt towards Beth, but amplified. And, he'd felt more about Beth than he had ever felt about anyone...until now. Was that what love was? He didn't know. But, Daryl knew that he didn't want to be without Scout.

"What?" Scout asked as she pulled back the covers on the bed. When she had come out of the bathroom he'd just stood there, staring at her, oddly more silent than usual. She felt like a bug under a microscope.

"I don't wanna go." Daryl said suddenly. He'd had no intention of broaching the subject with Scout, fully intending on letting Rick, the group leader, hash out the details. But something had come over him just now and the words tumbled out, surprising even him. Daryl crossed the room to stand by the bed where Scout was and took her hands in his. "Don't wanna leave you. We don't want to."

"Really?" Scout whispered as a smile of pure happiness spread across her face. While the one person that truly mattered was Daryl, Scout hadn't been lying earlier when she'd said to Carol that she had gotten used to having them around. She just hadn't thought in a million years that they would want to forgo their journey to meet up with the rest of their group. "You want to stay? With me?"

"Don't want to be nowhere else." Daryl leaned in to capture Scout's lips in a kiss. Pulling away, he grasped her hands in his and asked, "If you want us...want me to stay?"

“Daryl, I meant it when I said I love you last night. I don’t want you anywhere else but here. With me. And the others? They’re your family, I would never ask you to leave them.” Scout smiled up at Daryl with tears of joy twinkling in her multicolored eyes. “It’ll be cramped as hell, but we’ll deal with it.”

Eyes locked, the words were on the tip of Daryl’s tongue, but he couldn’t say them back to Scout. He had never told anyone he loved them and had never had anyone say those words to him until Scout. Daryl leaned forward, pressing his lips against Scout’s, pulling her body against his tightly as their kiss deepened. Scout’s hands wound around his neck and his slid his down along her sides to settle at her waist. 

Scout tangled one hand in Daryl’s long hair and cupped the other around the nape of his neck, pulling herself closer towards him. Suddenly he pulled back to stare at her in the near darkness and took her hand in his, turning it ever so slightly so that he could kiss the pulse that beat wildly beneath the skin of her wrist. Daryl looked up to Scout, his lips on her wrist and a look in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, achingly so, he kissed that delicate spot just below the edge of her palm and bit down lightly before winding his fingers between hers. 

Daryl’s heart raced, his stomach was damn near full of nervous butterflies, as he held Scout’s hand and looked in to her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Daryl pulled Scout close once more and slid his hands down her body to cup beneath her ass; lifting her up in to his arms. Scout’s legs circled his waist as Daryl walked them backwards towards until he could lay her gently on top the bed. Nestled between her thighs, Daryl rested his weight on one elbow while he slid his other hand beneath the soft flannel of her pajama top to caress the heated flesh of her stomach. He pushed the top upwards, shoving it off her arms and tossing it to the floor, before turning his attention back to the smooth flat surface of her stomach; kissing the bare skin, working his way up her stomach towards globes of her breasts. 

Scout’s breath hitched when Daryl’s mouth closed around the nipple of her right breast. Hot and moist, his mouth suckled the pert nub and his tongue swirled the sensitive area surrounding it. She tangled her hands in his hair and moaned with desire when he glanced up at her over her breasts. Their gazes connected, she watched as he moved to lavish attention to her other breast and shivered as the roughness of the scruff on his unshaved face brushed against the sensitive skin of her breast.

Daryl looked up at Scout, awash in the golden flickering glow from the fireplace, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses, her eyes darkened with desire for him and could not imagine how fate had led him to her. In another world, Scout would have been out of his reach, but here…now…somehow someone like him was allowed to love her. 

In a tangle of limbs, they somehow managed to divest one another of clothes, which were tossed in to a heap on to the floor. Pressed against one another, flesh against trembling flesh, Scout spread her legs to allow Daryl to settle between them. Eyes locked, their gaze never faltered as Daryl slowly slid inside Scout; filling her, loving her, laying claim to what was his. Slowly, they moved as one, the sounds of their desire filling the silent room so that the crackling of the flames was no longer the only sound. 

Scout bit down on Daryl’s shoulder in a vain attempt to muffle her cries of ecstasy. The pressure built up and shuddered through her body as he rocked against her. Pleasure surged and in the throes of desire, her cries could no longer be contained as Scout came undone in his arms. Sweat glistened and trembling in his arms, Scout continued to move with Daryl; urging him to find his own release. She moved her hands up and pushed his damp hair away from his face so she could see him better; to witness the passion that lived there. With one hand wrapped around the headboard for support and the other grasped tightly at her hip, Daryl escalated his movements. Pushing deeper and faster, Scout matched him thrust for thrust until the world shattered for both of them. 

Daryl leaned in and kissed Scout softly, then rested his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. “That was…” Unable to find the words to describe how he was feeling, Daryl slid from her body and laid down beside Scout on the bed; one arm crooked over his head. 

“Yeah. It was.” Scout echoed, turning her head to look over at him with a devious smile on her face. “But, I think we can do better.” 

The next morning, they woke to a room of disarray; clothes and bedding kicked off and tossed haphazardly around the room. Looking around, Scout realized that at some point in the night they had come dangerously close to burning the whole house down, but thankfully, her pajama pants had not fully ended up in the fireplace. They had also somehow managed to fall asleep with their heads at the foot of the bed and their feet near the headboard. It was, all in all, the best night of sex Scout had ever had.

Turning her attention to Daryl, who was now halfway down her body exploring the bare skin exposed to him now that she was only covered by a corner of the sheet. “What? You didn’t get enough of me last night?” Scout joked, knowing full well that after round three they had both been more than spent of their energy.

“This scar.” Daryl pointed to the pale almost starburst shaped scar on her upper hip that he had spotted the night she’d been injured. “What’s it from? Looks like a gunshot.”

“That’s because it is.” Scout reached down to rub her finger across the raised edges of the scar; remembering the night that it happened. While every officer trains to deal with hostile suspects and the possibility one might pull a gun on them, Scout doubted she could have ever been fully prepared for that night when she had stared down the end of a barrel. “Domestic fight call. When I got there the suspect pulled his gun on me and fired before I could do anything about it. Luckily, he was drunker than shit and a bad aim to boot. Managed to get behind my car door as he was stumbling my way. He fired one other time and hit my cruiser before I drew my gun and shot him.”

Daryl didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never know what it felt like before the outbreak to respond somewhere to help a person, simply performing a job, and be shot at for doing so. He did, however, at least know how it felt to have a gun pulled on him, even before the outbreak, and knew the gut chilling fear that it caused. He traced a finger along the edges of the shiny skin, pressing a kiss to it lightly before moving his way upwards towards Scout’s hipbone. Ok, so maybe he hadn’t gotten enough of her last night. Her smell, the feel of her skin against his, the way he felt when he was inside her…his addiction to Scout was undeniable and unavoidable. 

Scout looked over to find Daryl looking at her, his eyes darkened with lust as he peeked at her over the curve of her hipbone. That look, even partially obscured by the hair in his eyes, liquefied her. Opening to him, Scout took Daryl in her arms and relished the feel of his body pressed against hers; the feel of him inside her. For the fourth time in less than twelve hours, they fell in to one another, driven by desire, they became one.

Eventually, they managed to untangle themselves from one another long enough to clean up both themselves and the room. From the sounds in the kitchen, Daryl could tell that the room was awake and bustling with his family members and knew that he should go in there and tell them the good news. But, he was having a hard time making himself leave the bedroom; wanting to stay cocooned in the room with Scout for as long as he could. His decision, however, was forced when Scout realized what was outside in the yard.

“Snow!” Scout shrieked excitedly like a little kid discovering the powdery substance for the first time. She quickly dressed in fleece lined tights under a pair of ski pants and a thick sweater. “Come on! We have to go outside.”

“You’re insane.” Daryl smiled and shook his head, enjoying seeing the happiness on Scout’s face. “How about we eat first and tell everyone the news? Then you can drag me outside.”

“Fine.” Scout pouted, poking her bottom lip out; which prompted Daryl to lean in and capture it in a kiss. Flames instantly ignited once more, Scout fell in to his arms as they stumbled backwards into the bedroom door. Distracted, Scout couldn’t help but dissolved in to a fit of giggles when she realized that not only was everyone outside of her bedroom door and could easily hear what was going on inside, but that it was very likely some of them had had the misfortune of hearing their activities during the night. “I’d say let’s just hide out here all day, but then there’d just be more reasons to be embarrassed.”

“Hell, ain’t no reason to be embarrassed. We’ve been subjected to Glenn and Maggie plenty of times, ‘bout damn time someone else had some fun.” Daryl adjusted himself and kicked a stray bed pillow out of the way before opening the door. Swiping his arm across his body, he motioned for her to go on ahead of him. “After you.”

Once they were in the kitchen, Scout had to give everyone a credit for not being overly obvious about hearing her and Daryl’s escapades, but she could tell that everyone was aware of what had happened between them. Blushing profusely, Scout edged around the table to the end of the food line and nonchalantly picked up a plate, while Daryl leaned casually against the doorframe to the hallway.

“She said yes.” Daryl informed them with a grin, never letting his gaze stray from where she stood. “We can stay.”

Scout was shocked at the chorus of excitement that erupted in the room, every single person seemingly overjoyed at the news; except Lance, who just appeared confused. Rick put his plate down on the kitchen table and came over to pull her into a bear hug.

“Looks like you’re family now.” Rick couldn’t erase the smile on his face. His first concern was the safety of his children, followed closely by the safety of his family and being at Scout’s home sure seemed like the safest place that they had lived in a long time. “I doubt I can ever thank you enough.”

“I…you…there’s no need, Rick. I actually like having ya’ll here.” Scout admitted, her gaze sliding across the room to where Daryl was. “You’ve grown on me. It’d be weird if ya’ll left.”

One by one, the rest of the group came by with their plates and thanked her; leaving Scout a little dizzy headed from all the adoration and gratitude. Finally, she ended up in the dining room with a plate of eggs and deer meat scrambled together and topped with a dollop of goat cheese and took her place between Carl and Daryl. Conversation carried on around them as Carl and Scout hurriedly ate their food, both wanting to go outside and play in the snow. Scout could tell that Carl had been forced to grow up faster than he would have in a normal world, but she was glad to see he still had a hint of childhood tucked away inside. When they were finally finished eating, both of them scrambled away from the table and barreled out the front door directly in to a pile of snow. During the night, the flurries must have turned into something a heck of a bit stronger as there was now at least six inches of snow covering the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and reviews!


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is a lot darker than previous chapters. Please beware of the warnings for Assault/ Attempted Sexual Assault/ Graphic Violence

Scout was pale from the cold and shivering by the time Daryl was able to pull her back in to the house that afternoon. For hours, she and Carl had played in the snow; building snowmen, making snow angels and having snowball fights. Even Judith had joined in on the fun, toddling around as best she could as she waded through the wet snow. Now all three, red nosed and sniffling, had been forced back in to the house to change in to dry clothes and warm up by the fire; the two older ones doing so with mugs of instant hot chocolate Carol had found down in the basement. 

Looking around the living room at his family, and Lance, Rick couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear with happiness. He had fully intended to pull Scout off to the side today for some privacy while asking her if she would consider letting them stay permanently, but was glad that Daryl bit the bullet and took that task on himself. Now, as he rocked Judith to sleep for a much needed nap, he couldn’t help but think that they needed to celebrate the next chapter in their lives and announced that thought to the group. “We need to celebrate. Have a nice dinner, maybe a few drinks? We know Scout’s been squirrelling away the good stuff downstairs. Mark this as the beginning of our lives together.”

“We have some nice venison steaks that I can pan grill. And mashed potatoes? They’re instant, but they work just the same. I’m sure we can come up with something special.” Carol chimed in, instantly making notes in her head. 

“I’m sure I can finagle something to toast with.” Scout winked at Rick and sipped her hot chocolate. A celebration, splurging a bit on a good dinner and having a few drinks with her new family seemed like a fantastic idea. 

“Sounds like a fine plan then.” Rick stood up gently with Judith finally asleep in his arms. “This little lady needs to get a good nap so she can join us.” Smiling down at his daughter, Rick inched around the recliner and made his way upstairs to take her to the crib in his room. 

Daryl didn’t miss the wistful expression on Scout’s face as she watched Rick take Judith upstairs. After months of avoiding spending time with the baby, Scout had finally relented today and joyfully played with Judith in the snow. While Daryl highly doubted that he was father material, he had no doubt in his mind that Scout would make a fantastic mother and he hated that she would never be able to do so. Reaching out, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as she polished off the mug of hot chocolate.

A little while later, Scout reluctantly removed herself from Daryl’s hold to go downstairs and find appropriate celebration liquor. After promising to be right back, she headed down the hallway and dropped her mug off in the kitchen before heading in to the pantry to unlock the safe door. Before Lance had come to live with them, Scout had taken to just leaving the door unlocked since she trusted the other’s to not go down there and eat everything in sight. With Lance here now, however, she had returned to locking it again since the ones she trusted knew the combination anyway. Propping the door open, Scout flicked on the stairway lights and headed down in to the cold basement; propping that door open, too. It took a moment for the lights to flicker on in the large room but she was finally flooded with the harsh fluorescent light. She headed across the room to the where the boxes of alcohol were stored and busied herself poking through them, never noticing the door shut behind her. 

“So this is what your dad was hiding.” Lance remarked as he took in the contents of the room with wide eyes. “He was always boasting about the supplies he’d stocked away, but wouldn’t ever let me down here to see them.”

“Shit! Lance, you startled me.” Scout jumped in surprise and almost dropped a bottle of red wine in the process. Since she was usually the only one that ever came down here, with the exception of Carol on occasion, hearing someone come up behind her was a startling experience. Sitting the bottle of wine off to the side with another of its kind, she turned her back to Lance and carried on with what she was doing. “That’s because daddy never trusted you.”

“Your father thought he was better than everyone else, that’s what his problem was. Hell, we were getting married. What was the point of hiding this from me when I’d have been the one to take it over when he finally croaked?” Lance wandered around the area, poking his hands in to boxes and cabinets to see what was hidden inside. “No wonder they all want to stay here. Surprised they haven’t just slit your throat and took it all over. That’s how people are now.”

“You’re talking out of your ass, as usual.” Scout shot a glance over her shoulder to see where Lance was, making sure he wasn’t stuffing supplies up his shirt or something equally as sneaky. “They’re good people, but you wouldn’t know anything about that since you haven’t bothered to do anything but be a thorn in my side since coming back here. If you’d give them a chance you’d see them for what they are. Honest, good people.”

“Hmmm,” Lance murmured noncommittally as he looked through the boxes of food on one of the shelves. He turned to look at Scout and found that she was bent over once more digging through another crate. Smiling deviously, he crossed the room quickly thanks to the strides of his long legs. He came up behind her quickly, his hands on either side of Scout’s hip as he pressed against her backside. “I always thought you had the greatest ass.”

Scout yelped and quickly turned to swat at Lance, but he was closer than she expected and managed to do nothing but trap herself between him and the wall of crates. Putting her hands up against his chest, she pushed against him and tried to get him to step back. “Lance, what are you doing? Get away from me.”

“Come on, Scout. We were always so good together.” Lance pressed his large frame against her and dipped his head in close to hers. “You know that redneck asshole isn’t good enough for you; can’t get you going like I can.”

Lance’s breath was hot against her cheek as he pressed against her; his hands clawing at her, trying to get beneath the layers of clothes she had put on to try to get warm earlier. Now, those comforting layers of clothes felt like they were suffocating her as she became heated with anger…and a slight tinge of fear. She had never known Lance to be this forceful, or at least he had never been this way with her and now that he was and she was trapped in the basement with him, Scout could feel the panic building inside. Normally, she would be able to maneuver herself out of a situation as such, but Lance was bigger than her by a significant amount and she was wedged between him and a wall of crates. 

Scout shoved against him with all of her strength and managed to at least push him away from her so that his hot, moist breath was no longer in her face; choking her. “Lance, get the hell of me!” She shrieked and kicked at his shin, barely causing any recognition of pain with her sock covered foot. She let loose of his shirt and managed to get her right arm pulled back enough to swing forward and connect with his jaw hard enough to cause a jarring pain in her fist. When he stumbled away from her with his hand covering the area her fist had connected with, Scout was furious to see a bemused expression on his face. Enraged, she shook her throbbing hand and snarled at him. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Scout watched as Lance straightened up and moved his jaw around as though testing to see if there was any real damage to it. Her heart quickened as he started towards her once more with a look of pure determination on his face and prepared herself for attack. Crouched slightly, she squared off against him with her hands in fists in front of her; waiting for him as he loomed closer. Lance closed in on her, using the difference in their size and weight to try and force her back against the wall. His meaty hands closed around her biceps and pinned her arms to her sides. Never giving up, Scout fought against his hold; kicking and shrieking the whole time. He slammed her back against the crates, the liquor bottles inside them clinked loudly in protest, and Scout yelped at the sharp corners of wood pressing violently in to her back. Zeroing in on Lance’s neck, she tried to move her body in a way that would allow her to bite him, but he was suddenly yanked away from her. Slipping to the ground, she watched as Lance was pulled backwards sharply and thrown in the direction of the basement door that now stood open with Rick guarding the only exit. Scout felt a rush of relief wash over when she saw her rescuers.

Furious, Daryl stalked across the floor to where Lance was sprawled out on the cold concrete and fisted his hands in the man’s shirt before hauling him to his feet. His body had shook with rage when he heard Scout’s cries from the other side of the door as he and Rick made their way down the stairs. Now he radiated fury and his vision ran blood red with anger. Daryl pulled one fist back and slammed it into Lance’s face with enough force to bust open the man’s nose; causing blood to spurt violently and spray across both of them liberally. Lance wilted, barely conscious from the force of the blow, but that didn’t stop Daryl, who slammed his fist against him repeatedly until Scout’s hands circled around his arm and begged for him to stop.

“Daryl, he’s not worth it.” Scout begged as she tugged Daryl away from where Lance lay; broken and bloody. There was not a doubt in her mind that if she didn’t step in and stop the assault that Daryl would have killed Lance without a second thought. “He’s not worth it. Daryl, look at me. Lance isn’t worth it.” 

Daryl let Scout pull him backwards, away from the bloody, pulpy mess that he had created. When she moved to stand in front of him, between him and Lance, Daryl felt her hands on his cheeks as she forced him to look at her. His vision cleared, the red haze of rage slipping away enough that he could focus on the woman in front of him. “Scout?” Daryl whispered, his bloody hand coming up to rest atop of where hers rested on his cheek. “I…I seen him on you, heard you scream.”

“I’m ok. I promise. He didn’t hurt me.” Scout felt the tears she had been holding at bay finally spill from her eyes to fall down her cheeks. She looked at his hand that was holding hers against his cheek and noticed the damage done to it. Blood coated the top of Daryl’s hand and his knuckles were torn, but Scout didn’t know how much of the blood was his and how much belonged to Lance. Scout pulled his hand down to inspect it, feeling instant remorse when she saw the ripped and bloody skin, knowing that those injuries were sustained because she had been stupid enough to let Lance come back to the house with them. “I’m so sorry. I should never have brought him back here.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Daryl pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arms around Scout; hugging her against his chest as she sobbed. “You was trying to do something good. He’s the one that should be sorry.”

Rick watched silently from the doorway. He had come down with Daryl to see if Scout had needed any help bringing up supplies. Hearing her scream, seeing what Lance was trying to do, Rick’s blood had boiled with rage, but he had stood back knowing that it wasn’t his fight. He’d stayed for support, should Daryl have needed it, and then realized he needed to stay to ensure that his friend didn’t murder the man; not that the piece of shit didn’t deserve it. Once Scout had calmed Daryl down, Rick turned to leave and give them some privacy, all but dragging the semi-conscious Lance up the stairs behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews! I love them all. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and as per usual, the next update will be Tuesday.


	32. Chapter 32

Upstairs, Rick hauled the now unconscious Lance in to the kitchen and left him lying on the floor by the pantry. The sounds from the basement had clearly piqued the interest of the other group members, as everyone was crowded around the kitchen waiting expectantly to see what had happened down there. 

“What happened? Where’s Daryl and Scout? Are they ok?” Rick was bombarded by a chorus of questions upon his return. Making sure that Lance was in deed still out cold, Rick turned back to his family and held up his hands to motion for them to be quiet so he could talk. “They’re downstairs and are fine. Seems Lance got it in his mind to corner Scout while she was alone. Daryl and I got down there in time.”

“But she’s alright, isn’t she? He didn’t…” Maggie asked worriedly; trailing off at the end, as she didn’t want to put her thoughts in to words. Having been subjected to the Governor back when she and Glenn were being held hostage, Maggie knew all too well what Scout was experiencing. 

“No. She’s shook up, but otherwise alright. Got in a few licks of her own before Daryl.” Rick looked over in disgust to where Lance lay crumpled by the kitchen table, bleeding on to the wooden floor. He’d seen a lot of disgusting things in his life, before and after the turn, but assaulting a woman in any manner had never set right with him and never would. “Best we figure out what to do with him before Daryl gets back up here.”

“Surprised Daryl let him get off this easy.” Michonne stated matter-of-factly as she eased around the table to inspect Lance. She nudged him in the arm with her boot and cocked her head to the side in thought. “He’s not going to let him stay here now.”

“I don’t want him here either.” Maggie chimed in. Glenn stepped in behind his wife, putting his hands on her shoulders, and agreed. “He seems fixated on Scout. What if he does something else to her? Or to one of the other women here?”

“They’re right, Rick. Lance needs to go.” Carol wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and stepped away from the sink, where she’d been washing dishes. “We’re staying here for safety and having Lance around defeats that purpose.”

“I agree. He needs to go, but there’s nothing we can do right now since he’s out cold.” Rick looked to where Carol was standing and paid notice to the look in her eyes. Within that gaze, he found the barest hint of the woman Carol used to be, finding a flicker of fear in relation to being in a home with an abusive man. The flicker faded away quickly, replaced with the woman that she was now; strong, courageous, decisive. Rick knew that if Carol felt her family was threatened, she wouldn’t hesitate to eradicate that danger and knew that a decision about Lance’s fate needed to be made soon. He didn’t want Carol to feel like she had to take matters in to her own hands again; didn’t want that blood on her conscience, too. “We’ll talk about it when Scout and Daryl return.”

“There ain’t shit to talk about.” Daryl informed, overhearing the groups concerns as he stepped out of the pantry and sat a crate down to hold open the door for Scout to pass through. “Sombitch ain’t staying here.”

“I’m with Daryl.” Scout replied when Rick asked how she felt about the situation. “It was a mistake to bring him here in the first place. I let him weasel back in to my life because I didn’t want to be alone after ya’ll left.” Embarrassed by the situation, hating that she allowed herself to be victimized by Lance and then for admitting that the only reason she let him to return to the house was because she was weak and didn’t want to be alone again, Scout avoided the gazes of her new family and wrapped her arms protectively around her torso. 

“Then it’s settled. He’s gone.” Rick moved around the table to stand at Lance’s feet. He motioned for Tyrese to grab the man’s arms as he grabbed Lance’s feet. “Let’s move him in to the living room until he regains consciousness.”

As they moved Lance in to the other room, Scout turned to Daryl and took his hand in hers once again to inspect the wounds. Tears pricked her eyes upon seeing the torn and bloodied flesh of his knuckles. She wanted to kiss away the damage, but didn’t want to cause him any further pain. Without bothering to look up in to his eyes, she murmured, “We need to get this cleaned up.”

Still high on adrenaline, Daryl honestly didn’t feel any pain from the injuries sustained to his hand, but knew from experience that the feeling would wear off eventually and leave him in a mess of pain. He allowed Scout to pull him down the hallway to her bathroom without saying a word; truly not knowing what to say to her at the moment. If he had put his foot down about Lance returning with them, or if he had went with her to the basement, that bastard would never been able to hurt her. 

Safely tucked away in the bathroom, away from the curious and worried eyes of her new family, Scout set about gathering the appropriate items necessary to treat his injuries. Gently, she rinsed the torn skin and washed the blood from them as softly as possible, before covering the tears with antiseptic ointment. Finally, she wrapped his right hand in gauze and fixed it in place with medical tape before saying anything. "Gonna hurt like the dickens for a few days, but otherwise should be fine. We'll need to clean it often though."

"Ain't my first set of bloody knuckles. Been hurt worse." Daryl lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile and flexed his hand beneath the bandages. He'd had his fair share of them before the turn and it was with a sharp pain of guilt that he remembered the worst set of busted knuckles that he had ever had...the one's sustained when he was interrogating Randall in the barn back on the farm. He'd carried around the burden of guilt for beating that young man as badly as he had, all in the name of so called information and a need to prove that he was a worthy, useful member of the group. Pushing away that thought, Daryl glanced back up to look at Scout's face and misread the expression he found there. Reaching out with his good hand to comfort her, he asked softly, "You sure he didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine." Scout shook off Daryl's hand, too pissed at herself to notice the look of hurt pass over his face. Standing up, she started angrily shoving the medical supplies back in to their container. "I've never needed saving before you. Never. Not once have I ever needed someone to ride in on their stupid horse and rescue me like some pathetic damsel in distress. And yet, since you've been here it's happened three fucking times." Frustrated, she kicked the medical kit back under the counter and sighed. "You distract me, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl sat there in silence and stared at her; not knowing what to say. Her words from the day in the woods, when she had accused him of not wanting her because she didn't need him to save her, were ringing in his head. The fact of the matter was, Scout didn't need him to save her. Daryl had no doubt in his mind that she would have survived each incident had he not been there to help her. He was just doing what he always did for the ones he cared about. "You don't need me, Scout. You're strong enough on your own, I was just helping. I do that, for family."

"Yeah, just helping." Scout scoffed in annoyance. "Falling down that embankment? Damn near dying because of half a fucking walker? Letting that corpse attack me in the baby shop? Getting cornered by Lance? All because my head was so wrapped up in you that I couldn't see straight! You weren't just helping me, Daryl. If you hadn't been there I'd be dead, but you know...just maybe, if I wasn't so damned mixed up with you in my head I would've been paying better attention."

"So what? You want me to go? Want us to leave?" Daryl asked gruffly. Pushing off the toilet, where he'd been sitting while Scout dealt with his hand, he cocked his head and pointed a finger at her in frustration. "So you can sit here, alone, and put all the blame on yourself? Lance distracted you at that baby shop. Lance attacked you downstairs. Hell, I've said all along it was my fault you ran out of here and got busted up. Why don't you put the damn blame where it belongs?"

"Of course I don't want you to go. I never said that." Scout turned to face Daryl, finally seeing the pain in his eyes, shoved her hands through her hair and sighed in frustration; feeling some of the air go out of her sails. "Shit, I'm just pissed at myself and taking it out on you. Mostly, I'm just being a bitch, but you do distract me. Something awful, actually."

"Hell, you ain't the only one." Daryl admitted as he opened his arms for Scout. He heard her mumble something against his shoulder and pulled back to ask, "What'd you say?"

"I just said that one of these days I'll get to save your ass. Make it even." Scout replied with a grin, before leaning in to press her lips to his.

Daryl didn't respond to her comment, simply let himself fall into the kiss without saying the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Maybe one of these days he'd be strong enough to tell Scout that he loved her and that she had already saved him.

A few moments later, Scout pulled back from Daryl's kiss, breathless and dizzy with want. She could honestly never remember a time before the turn, before Daryl, when a simple kiss could have her ready to strip down and jump someone's bones. Right now all she really wanted to do was strip Daryl down and have her way with him all night long, instead she put her hands on his chest, pushed him back slightly, and answered his curious gaze. "I need to deal with Lance."

"You decided what you're gonna do?" Daryl asked as he stepped away from Scout and followed her in to the bedroom. "Dark ain't too far off."

"I know." Scout sighed and looked out the nearby window to the approaching darkness. "But, he can't stay here." With determination written all over her face, Scout left the bedroom and marched towards the living room to where Lance was presumably still unconscious. She strode quickly through the kitchen, where the majority of her new family was still located, and ignored their curious stares as she stomped down the hallway. 

Once inside the living room, she found Lance clearly dazed, but at least awake and half sitting up against the couch. His face was a bloody pulp, with both eyes partially swollen, a busted bottom lip and his nose bent at an awkward angle, no doubt broken. For a brief moment, Scout felt glimmer of weakness in regards to Lance and the pain he was in, but brushed that feeling aside since what he was experiencing now was brought on solely by himself. She spotted his jacket laying across the couch, grabbed it and tossed it to land across his legs. Crossing her arms across her chest, Scout glared at Lance and said, "You're no longer welcome here. It's time to go, Lance."

"I'm so sorry." Lance muttered, his words muffled and full of pain. "I don't know what I was thinking, Scout. Please forgive me. Don't make me go out there, alone." Slowly, he forced his feet beneath him and stood up shakily; huffing loudly from the pain.

"No, it's me that's sorry, Lance." Scout replied coldly; her resolve unwavering. "I'm sorry that I brought you here. I'm sorry that I let whatever feelings I used to have for you cloud my judgment. But, being kicked out in to the cold, in the snow, alone? That's on you and for that I am not sorry."

"That's it? One mistake and you get to sentence me to a certain death?" Lance asked incredulously as he hurriedly put on the coat, as if Scout might decide to take that away from him too. He brought his hands up in front of him and emphatically gestured towards the blanket of thick snow outside. "You can't send me out there. What are you? Judge and jury now?"

"Damn straight, I am. Executioner, too, if you force me." Scout turned away from him and walked over to the end table where the pocket knife she had given him a long time ago was located. Picking it up, she handed it to him and continued, "You get what you came with. You can walk out of here on your own, or I can bury you. The choice is yours, Lance."

"But, those things! They're out there. I can't protect myself with this shitty little knife! At least give me a gun, something I can protect myself with!" Lance begged, gesturing with the pocket knife she had just handed him. 

"No. Everything else I have is for me," Scout replied, then pointed towards the kitchen where everyone else was still located to give her privacy to do what needed to be done, "and them. I won't risk their safety for you any longer. Plus, it's cold out. Walkers slowdown in the winter, they're likely slower than snails now. Hell, probably just a bunch of walker-cicles after all this snow. It's not them you'll have to worry about. Your personality, your lack of skills? That's what's going to get you in the end, Lance."

"You're heartless. Cold. There's not a hint of the woman I was going to marry left, is there?" Lance said bitterly as he yanked the pocket knife out of Scout's hand. "This is on you. My death, is on your head. I hope you can live with yourself."

"It's not on me. I gave you a chance and you blew it." Scout turned and walked out of the living room towards the front door. Her one mistake was thinking that his injuries would slow him down, or that being on the receiving end of Daryl's fist would make Lance less like to try anything else with Scout. She was clearly wrong. There was a sudden odd sound, the scraping of a boot across the wooden floor due to an awkward gait caused by multiple injuries, the quick intake of breath as Lance propelled himself forward, that caught Scout's attention and she whirled around just in time to catch him by the wrist; the wrist that was attached to the hand that held the pocket knife, which now had its blade pointed straight at her. 

Daryl stepped forward, his natural instinct to protect what was his trying to take over, but forced himself to stay back; to not interfere. He reclaimed his spot near the doorframe, hovering but not stepping in, at the same time Scout grabbed Lance's wrist and twisted his arm up behind him. The pocket knife clattered to floor as Scout wrenched Lance's arm up to where his hand was damn near touching his shoulder blade and stuck her foot out so that he tripped and fell to the floor, too. Chest heaving, she released her hold and reached over to grab the knife and stalked across the hallway to the front door. Yanking it open, she tossed the knife out on to the front porch and swung around to snarl at Lance. "Get the fuck out of my house."

He couldn't help but have a surge of pride as he watched Scout stand tall as Lance limped out of the house. Daryl crossed the area between them as she shut the door and leaned against it; pressing her forehead against the smooth wood. "You did right. He wasn't ever gonna change," he assured Scout when he slid up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I wonder...was he always like that? Underneath it all, I mean." Scout leaned back against Daryl and let his strong arms comfort her. "Or did he become that way after the turn?"

"I dunno. Maybe we don't know who we are until things go to shit." Daryl replied, dipping his head down to kiss the soft spot of her neck just below her ear. "Could be just the shitty ones got shittier when it went down."

"You changed for the better. Said so yourself. I see how you are now and I can't see the man you claimed you once were. I can't even imagine it actually." Scout turned around in his arms so they were face to face. Shrugging, she continued, "Lance said I was cold, that I've changed, too. I...I don't know if I have. Surely it's changed me, right? I mean, what does it say about me that the world went to shit and except for losing my family I'm ok with it. What does that even mean?"

"Just cause I've changed don't mean I ain't done bad things since the turn. The things I've done, what I've done to protect the people I care about? They might’ve been done to help someone, keep them safe, but that don't mean it was right. I just keep trying to change, be better." Daryl admitted as he brushed away a lone tear that streaked down Scout's cheek. "Something like this? If it don't make you change, then something's wrong. And I ain't seen a bit of cold coming from you. Taking in a bunch of strangers, letting your shithead of an ex come back here...no matter what your reasons was...that ain't cold."  
"That's good to know. I won't mention how many times I thought about shooting you and Rick that day when you found my house then. Don't want to tarnish your impression of me." Scout replied with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, probably best we don't get in to what was going through my head neither." Daryl gave a good natured chuckle before looking past Scout's shoulder out the glass section of the front door. "Don't see him no more."

"If he knows what's best for him he's halfway to town by now." Scout grabbed Daryl's non-injured hand and tugged him towards the kitchen. "Come on. We've got some celebrating to do."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos!


	33. Chapter 33

Within the hour, Scout was crowded around the dining room table with her new family and happier than she had been in a long time. Carol and Sasha had served thick, juicy cuts of medium rare deer steak, a steaming bowl of instant mashed potatoes with goat cheese and chives mixed in, sautéed mushrooms from a can, and yeasty hot from the oven rolls. Bottles of red wine were passed around the table for dinner, with the whiskey and tequila saved for the party afterwards, and candles burned brightly on every available surface. Tonight they were celebrating, no sense in rationing things when it was time for a party!

It wasn't long before everyone was borderline tipsy. Well, except for Maggie and Carl, of course. The younger Grimes had begged off the offering of red wine saying he had no intentions of drinking it again after they'd let him try it at the CDC. Picking up on the tail end of his reasoning, Scout's curiosity was piqued and she asked, "CDC? You guys went there? What'd they say?"

"Weren't no one there but one guy." Daryl offered, sobered slightly by the information that Rick had learned there. "Place detonated. We'd barely been there a day."

"So, no cure then?" Scout drained the last of her wine and considered if she should have another glass or just move on to the hard stuff for the conversation she figured they were about to have. "Not to be a downer or anything, but I haven't heard about anything after our town turned."

"Ain't no cure." Daryl murmured gruffly. They had all suffered a blow upon finding out that Eugene had lied about his quest to D.C. in hopes of producing a cure. Finding that out after he'd had to carry Beth's dead body out of the hospital had been even worse for Daryl. They're group could have been stronger if Eugene had not of concocted the lie, would have had more people to rescue Carol and Beth. If they'd have had everyone in their group there, they could have stormed the hospital the way Rick had wanted to do in the first place. Beth could have been saved.

"Before the place self-destructed, before we were allowed to escape, the doctor did tell me that we're all infected though." Rick pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. Judging by the expression on her face, he gathered that Scout wasn't privy to that information. "I take it you didn't already know."

"Shit no, I didn't know that." Scout leaned across to the center of the table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey; putting two fingers of the amber liquid in her glass. "So, what, head shot or you're wandering around all dead no matter how you die?"

"Yes. For the longest we just assumed bite or scratch, but after seeing someone come back without either..." Carol trailed off, remembering how Rick had known long before the rest of them what would happen if they died without damage to the brain. 

"That I can live with. It's not knowing if there really is a cure that gets me." Glenn bravely filled his glass with wine again, barely half full this time as he had no intentions of having another hangover any time soon. "I wanted to strangle Eugene when he confessed to lying about it."

Knowing that Scout did not know about the myth of the infection cure, Daryl piped in. "Eugene, he's with the ones that went on to the coast. Said he had the cure, talked us all in to a pipe dream of a trip to D.C. so he could make it."

"That's one fucked up thing to lie about these days." Scout said in disbelief. "What was his reasoning for putting ya'll through that?"

"Eugene wasn't someone that could physically take care of himself. Figured if he gave someone a reason to keep him safe that he'd make it longer. When he came across Abe, former military, he wove this fancy set of lies to get him to protect him. Eventually, the three of them, Abe and his girlfriend, Rosita, and Eugene came across Glenn and Tara after our prison was overrun and found his way to the rest of us." Rick scratched his beard and took a sip of wine before continuing. "Eventually, he admitted he had lied all along."

"He told me and Glenn it was a lie. I wanted so badly just to shoot him for it." Maggie admitted. "By the time we were able to turn around and get to the others, at the hospital, Daryl was carrying Beth out and I forgot all about wanting to shoot Eugene."

"That's horrible." Scout put her hand on Daryl's leg and gave it a squeeze of comfort at hearing Beth's name. "You guys have been through so much. I can't even imagine."

"We've been through our fair share of hell. All I ever wanted was to find a safe place, try to establish some roots, make it back to a civilized life. Just seemed like every time we found a place where we could possibly do that fate had different plans." Rick topped off his wine glass and turned to Scout. "Hopefully it works out this time."

"I can't make any promises, but so far so good." Scout couldn't help but wonder if they were jinxing themselves. "So, that's all of the other half of your group? Abe, Eugene and Rosita?"

"Tara and Noah." Daryl couldn't help the flash of anger that surged through him at the mention of Noah's name. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but he believed that Beth had stabbed at officer in the shoulder in some ridiculous attempt at saving Noah from having to return to the hospital and pay off his stupid debt. Daryl didn't know who he was truly mad at, Beth or Noah, but felt more comfortable placing the blame on Noah instead of the other option. 

"Father Gabriel was going to go with them, as well, but died from infection before they left out." Carol interjected. "Apparently he had stepped on a nail while Beth and I were being held at the hospital and it got pretty nasty. Without any medication there wasn't anything we could do."

"Maggie told me a little bit about the hospital, about the bad people there. That's just fucked up." Scout shook her head and sipped a little bit of whiskey. "Didn't take long at all for civilization to go to shit, did it?"

"Human nature. Strong preys on the weak. Always been that way." Daryl pointed out, leaning back in his chair. "Ain't no punishment now, no jail, to keep some people contained. Nothing to keep 'em from taking advantage."

"Well, that's just depressing as hell." Scout pushed away from the table and started clearing dishes. "This kind of talk has no business at a party. Sorry I brought it up. How about we clean this stuff up, play some poker and get shitfaced?"

For the next several hours, they laughed, drank, played cards and eventually just sat around swapping stories; ranging from pre and post turn. Luckily, the depressing topics were left at dinner and only the amusing and heartfelt stories of loved ones and past experiences filled their evening. Finally, after Carl fell asleep at the table, Rick declared the evening a success, despite everything that had happened that day, and said it was time to quit while they were still ahead. 

Leaving the glasses, cards and empty bottles littering the table, they shuffled off to their respective bedrooms. Michonne and Carol to the twin princess canopy beds in what used to be Scout's baby sisters room. Sasha would forever be stuck sleeping on the trundle bed while her larger brother occupied the queen bed in the guest room. Carl was ushered to the living room couch once occupied by Lance, and Rick headed to the room that once belonged to her brother, where Judith was already asleep. After everyone had said their goodnights, the candles were extinguished, the fires were stoked and all the locks were triple checked, Scout held on to Daryl's left hand while he led them down the darkened hallway to their room.

Their room. 

The thought sent shivers of happiness through her body. Scout smiled in the darkness as Daryl tried to coax flames back in to the dying fire in their bedroom. She couldn't shake the thought about it being theirs, even though they had shared it for months. Watching Daryl working on the fire, squatted down with a look of fierce determination on his face, Scout was damn near bowled over by the amount of love and desire she felt for him. She wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to the intensity of her feelings for Daryl. 

Slowly, without taking her eyes of him, Scout eased forward to where he was crouched; all the while unbuttoning her shirt. Within a few breaths, she was standing beside him, naked from the waist up. She had his attention now and held it as she stepped out of her blue jeans and kicked them aside. Nearly bare to him now, Scout stood next to him clad in only a pair of blue lacy underwear that had no place in the apocalypse. He turned to her, still on his knees, and looked up at her with heavy lidded indigo eyes full of desire. She wobbled slightly when his hands touched her; dizzy from the heady combination of whiskey and lust. 

Daryl didn't know if he would ever grow tired of seeing Scout naked; of caressing, kissing, licking her bare skin. Kneeled below her, he looked up and grew hard as he watched the golden hue from the now roaring fire flicker across her pale skin. He reached out and placed his hands on either side of her hips and pulled her forward slightly so that his face was barely a breath away from the scant scrap of silky lace she considered to be underwear. Lightly caressing the skin that peeked out around the edge of fabric, Daryl slipped his thumbs beneath lace by her hip bone and slid them down slowly until they brushed the patch of hair near the apex of her thighs. 

She couldn't take her eyes off of him. Daryl was that kind of man, the one that demanded attention in and out of the bedroom, whether he verbalized it or not. Scout trembled as his hands, the rough hands of a man that lived a hard life, teased along the edges of her underwear; lightly probing the area that ached for his attention. His eyes were on her, too, peeking up at her from beneath those long bangs, watching her as his hands explored the most delicate part of her body. She was fairly certain that having Daryl watch her while he teasingly tortured her with his hands might just be the sexiest thing in the world.

When he slipped his hands lower and urged her legs apart in a silent request, and leaned forward to lick her through the silky lace, Scout's vision swam and for a moment she thought she might pass out. "Oh my...Daryl." Her words were uttered softly, bordering on a moan as she wound her hands in his long hair. Then the scrap of fabric was pushed aside and his tongue was licking her, suckling her, over and over until Scout's legs damn near buckled from the sensation. 

Daryl felt it when her legs almost gave out and grinned against the moist patch of hair pressing against his face. He wanted to delve further, tease her more, but the bandages on his right hand were making the situation difficult since he was holding her underwear to the side with his left hand. He pulled away from her momentarily, a halfcocked grin on his face when she whimpered in protest, and slipped off her underwear. Once she was fully bare to him, Daryl started to lean in and continue his ministrations, but was stopped when Scout pulled him back. 

"I want you inside me." Scout replied, her voice thick with desire, when he looked up at her questioningly. She put her hands on Daryl's shoulder and sank down to her knees. Now face to face, she reached out and grabbed hold of the bottom of his shirt and helped him pull it off before all but pushing him back on to the floor. Desperate to feel him, to have him inside her, Scout crawled up Daryl's body and quickly undid his belt and pants. She eased his pants down just enough so that the hardened length that was hidden beneath the fabric popped out at her. She bit down on her bottom lip with desire and wrapped her hand the shaft, guided it to her opening and slowly eased him inside. 

Seeing Scout there, above him, sliding him into her body, had Daryl aching with need. His hands clutched at her hips tightly as he thrust up to meet her as she rode him. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, her breasts bounced and her eyes never left his as they moved as one in the light and heat from the fireplace. She took him there, hard and fast, coaxing every ounce of desire out of his body until they came together; Daryl spilled in to Scout with a thundering roar as she trembled violently and fell over to lay on his sweat glistened chest. 

They lay like that for a while, trying to get their breathing under control. Finally, Scout said in a breathless voice, "Wonder how many more times we can do that before they get pissed at the noise?"

"Damn woman, beginning to think you're insatiable." Daryl replied hoarsely, still panting from round one. His hands slid down Scout's side, relishing the mix of womanly curves and toned muscles that lay beneath her soft skin, and felt his dick start to harden again. Daryl clapped his hand against her ass, grabbed it tightly and said, "Hell, I'm game if you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and reviews!!!


	34. Chapter 34

Upon waking the next morning, Scout was elated to find that the grounds were still covered in a blanket of snow, in spite of the sun that was shining brightly in the crystal blue sky. She was standing at the window admiring the picturesque setting when the rustle of sheets and squeak of a mattress spring let her know that Daryl was awake and getting out of bed. Without turning around, knowing that he would come to her, Scout leaned back in to his embrace when he tugged the thin blanket away from where it was wrapped around her shoulders and his strong arms encircled her waist. Pressed against her, his naked flesh against hers and his hardened length nestled against her buttocks, Scout couldn’t help but feel a shiver of desire course through her body. Even though the past couple of days had been spent basically in bed with one another, her body eagerly anticipated having Daryl inside her body yet again. 

“Hey now, you can’t get a girl all hot and bothered then walk away.” Scout said teasingly when Daryl’s arms dropped away from her and he stepped back. Turning around, she was stopped short when he reached out and lightly took hold of one of her arms. Scout looked down to see what he was inspecting so thoroughly and noticed the angry dark marks across both of her biceps; no doubt left as a reminder of her encounter with Lance on the previous day. “Oh.”

“Thought you said he didn’t hurt you.” Daryl inquired as he moved from her arms to inspect the rest of her body. Moving around to her back, his anger doubled upon spotting a series of bruises across the middle of Scout’s back that were likely the result of being shoved repeatedly into the sharp corners of the liquor crates. 

“He didn’t. It’s just a few bruises. They don’t even hurt much.” Scout said over her shoulder to where Daryl was inspecting her backside. The rough, callouses of his hard worked hands slid gently over the skin on her back as though she was made of porcelain. “I bruise easily, it just takes a bit for them to pop up.”

“Should’ve killed him when I had the chance.” Daryl’s voice was deeper than usual, filled with an emotional mixture of anger and sorrow. Satisfied that Scout wasn’t sporting any other injuries, he stepped back around to face her; paying no mind to the fact that he was completely bare to her gaze. “I’d rip that sombitch to shreds if he was here.”

“Well, thankfully, he’s not.” Scout wrapped her arms around Daryl’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the frown marring his beautiful features. Fully intent on doing whatever necessary to remove the miserable expression from his face, Scout leaned in and started kissing lightly on his neck, making her way towards his ear, when the room was suddenly filled with a loud rumbling of hunger from her stomach. She pulled back sheepishly, but when Scout saw Daryl’s expression she burst out with laughing; she had managed to change the look on his face, albeit not in the way she had intended to do so. “Sorry, I’m always hungry after I drink that much.”

“Damn. Impressive.” Daryl leaned down and grabbed the pair of pants Scout had worn the night before and handed them to her. “Better do something about that then.”

A short while later, Scout decided to eat breakfast in the living room with Carl, the only other person awake thus far besides her and Daryl. When she rounded the corner with her bowl in hand, she found Carl sitting on the floor with piles of photo albums piled around him. Upon seeing her enter the room, he apologized profusely with wide eyes and started gathering the albums in his arms to put them away.

“It’s ok. You can look at them.” Scout motioned with her hand for him to sit back down and relax, before walking over to join him in the floor; Daryl chose to sit on the couch behind her instead. “I haven’t looked at these in a while, before the outbreak. Was too hard.”

“Mom took a bunch of pictures with us, when the evacuation started. She had them for a while, up until the farm, but when we had to leave they got left.” Carl informed her solemnly as he pulled another album in to his lap and opened the front cover so that Scout’s mother and sister stared up at them.

“So you don’t have any pictures of her?” Scout felt sorry for the kid. While she hadn’t looked at the albums of pictures, she at least kept her favorite family picture next to her bed at all times. Plus, there were plenty of framed pictures littering the walls upstairs since Scout had only removed the ones from the lower level after the turn; those that were now safely tucked away in a box under the bed in the master bedroom so she didn’t have to deal with seeing their happy faces every day.

“I’ve got one, but it’s in bad shape.” Carl leaned sideways so that he could pull a wallet sized photo from his back pocket. Scout noticed that at some point he had tried to protect it as much as possible by wrapping it in clear packaging tape. “She had this one at the prison before she died.”

“Wow. She’s beautiful.” Scout held the picture delicately and grinned as she took in a beardless Rick and a pintsized Carl, before handing it back to him. “I’m sorry you don’t have any other pictures.”

“Yeah. We went back to our hometown once. Michonne helped me get a framed picture from this place we used to go eat all the time, but it got left behind when we had to run. I was lucky to have this one with me.” Carl gingerly put it back in his pocket and went back to the album in his lap. “So, this is your mom and sister?”

“Yep, looks like one of my sister’s dance recitals. Jill wanted to be a ballerina for the longest.” Scout reached out and traced the edges of the picture where Jillian beamed for the camera in her pink leotard and frilly tutu. “My mom, Jean, took ballet for years, even performed some in local plays when she was younger. Jill wanted to be just like her.”

“And this one?” Carl asked when he flipped the page to show a very awkward teenaged Scout rough housing with Jacob, who was decked out in his football gear. 

“Yikes. The hair.” Scout cringed at the sight of her with stringy locks and thick bangs. “Um, judging by the hair, that would’ve been taken when I was in eighth grade, so Jacob would’ve been in ninth grade. Looks like after one of his JV games.”

“Did you play any sports? We’re you a cheerleader?” Carl looked up at Scout and she realized that he was likely asking all these questions because he didn’t get a chance to experience the normal childhood and teenage rites of passage for himself. 

“Nope. I was the only kid in the family that slacked in that department. Couldn’t stand being told what to do all the time. Plus, I’d have rather been in the woods with my dad instead of on a field somewhere.” Scout reached over and flipped the page for him, this time landing on one of her old high school formal pictures. “Check out that monstrosity of a dress. Ugh. That would be my freshman homecoming.”

“Lemme see.” Daryl interjected, seemingly interested all of the sudden, although he had been peering over their shoulders for the others. It was nice to see Carl acting like a kid and being interested in something other than guns and killing walkers. “Date looks like a dork.”

“Travis does not look like a dork.” Scout quickly replied as she swiped at his arm to let go of the album. “He was my first boyfriend. We dated all through high school until the summer after graduation. And he was a sweetheart, I’ll have you know. Flowers, opened doors, pulled out my chair, even stuck little notes in my locker. The whole nine yards.”

“Hmmpft, where’d that get him?” Daryl chuckled as he released the album and leaned back against the couch again. “Good guys don’t get nowhere.”

“Well, he rounded the bases, so I guess he probably got what he wanted.” Scout retorted quickly, momentarily forgetting about the teenager sitting next to her who was all ears regarding the topic. Blushing profusely when she looked back at Carl, Scout turned the page once more and was suddenly silent as she was faced with a picture of her and her childhood best friend, Amanda; arms linked and faces sticky with cotton candy at the county fair. 

They couldn’t have been more opposite of one another and maybe that’s what drew them to each other in the beginning. Scout had always been fairly tall and athletically built with waves of dark chocolate brown hair spilling down her back, while Amanda was short and had curves that caused more than one lusty stare in her lifetime and hair as golden as the sun. Scout had been standoffish and selective in the people that she spent time with, often preferring to spend evenings at home alone instead of going out with other people her age. Amanda, on the other hand, was loud and friendly, overly so at times, and couldn’t be alone no matter what. They had met when Amanda transferred in to Scout’s second grade class after her family had moved from Wisconsin. Being the new girl in school had obviously been the only time in her life that Amanda had been shy and had ended up on the wrong end of a practical joke by the class bully. Ever the protector, Scout had stepped in on the playground and promptly awarded Adam, the prankster and bully, a fat lip and black eye. Once Scout had been allowed to return to school after a week-long suspension, Amanda had quickly declared Scout her new best friend and they had been inseparable until the night Scout had caught her in the backseat with Lance. 

“Wait! You skipped one.” Carl asked as he pushed back the page that Scout had just flipped past. “Who’s that with you?”

“Someone I used to know.” Scout replied softly as she stared down at the picture with sadness in her eyes. Carl took the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it and quickly flipped the page as Scout felt Daryl’s hand on her shoulder; knowing who the girl in the picture was based on conversations they’d had over the past few months.

They covered album after album until Carl finally came to one that held her family’s final pictures together. More than half the book was filled with baby Olivia’s third birthday party, as family and friends had filled the house to the seams with food, decorations and mountains of presents for the adorable little girl. Scout painstakingly detailed every picture with a small narrative until they reached the end of the book where the last picture they had taken as a family was located. They were in this very living room, in front of the fireplace, with her dad in the middle, towering over the rest of the family with his impressive six foot five height. To the right was her mother, fair haired and youthful for her age, with her arm around Jacob, who was a slightly shorter mirror image of their father with dark hair, bright blue eyes and heartwarming smile. Harper, Jacob’s wife, was standing in front of him, her five foot two frame barely blocking him at all, with their beaming baby, Olivia, in her arms. And, standing to the left of her dad, tucked beneath his arm, was Scout. Looking down at the picture with nostalgia, Scout couldn’t help but notice the expression in her eyes, one that she had once thought looked uncomfortable from being trussed up in fancy dress clothes, but now appeared more foreboding; as though she had known what was coming in just a few short weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the votes and reviews. :) Hope you like this chapter, it's not much in the way of plot, but I wanted to lighten the mood a bit after the angst of the past couple. Sadly, I will be out of town next Sunday and have no access to a computer, so unless I can figure something out, there will not be an update that night. I will, however, promise to post one Monday night when I get back to a computer and internet connection!


	35. Chapter 35

The next couple of months flew by quickly, the seasons changing with little fanfare due to the fact that after the one snowfall the remainder of the winter had been fairly mild. The only difference now was that flowers were beginning to bloom, the foliage on the trees were looking less brown and the dreary gray skies had gone away to reveal a brilliant crystal blue spotted ever so slightly with the occasional fluffy cloud

After weeks of pestering Rick, Carl had finally managed to break his father’s resolve and get permission to start getting hunting lessons from Daryl and Scout. Once Carl had been fitted with an appropriate sized compound bow that used to belong to Scout’s brother, they had taken him out for his first practice session where he learned proper techniques in shooting and safety. Their sessions started off slightly rocky, between Carl’s natural tendency to do as he pleased and Daryl’s reaction to the boy not doing exactly what he was told to do, they finally reached a middle ground within a few hours and started making real progress. It didn’t take Carl long to catch on before he was shooting targets with ease. The next lesson came about two weeks later when Daryl took Carl in to the woods to start showing him how to track animals.

Finally, sometime in the end of March, with the almost warm temperature and tiny pops of color amidst the trees in the forest, Scout and Daryl decided it was time for Carl to test out the skills he had learned. While his tracking methods could use a bit more work, he took the lead and managed to navigate them towards a clearing where he took down a good sized rabbit; only needing a tiny bit of assistance from Daryl in doing so. Within a few hours, Carl had added a squirrel to his belt to go along with the rabbit and both Scout and Daryl had a couple of furry beasts tied to theirs as well. 

Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, Scout could tell that it was well past noon and therefore time for a much needed lunch break. Settling on a spot near the creek, the trio dug in to the sack lunches Carol had prepared for them, which consisted of venison jerky, granola bars and a bottle of water each. Not very tantalizing to the taste buds, but would provide enough calories to support them for the remainder of the afternoon. 

Scout was appreciating the scenic setting, the clear skies and rushing waters of the creek, while she chewed on the jerky when suddenly her daydreams were interrupted by a strange noise. Wrinkling her brow as though by doing so her hearing would suddenly be elevated to super strength, she focused her attention on the sounds. “Do you guys hear that?” She asked curiously as she turned her head slowly from side to side in an attempt to figure out where the sounds were coming from. “It kind of sounds like someone calling for help, but I can’t pinpoint it.”

“I hear it, too. Water’s making it hard to hear.” Daryl shoved his food back in to his pouch and stood up to slowly circle the area in hopes of figuring out where the sound was coming from. “Sounds female. Possible it’s coming from that way.” He pointed up the hill they came down, but in the opposite direction of where their house was located. “Ain’t nothing that way but trees, right?”

“Trees. Lots of trees.” Scout muttered as she shoved her leftovers back in to her pack as well. Mentally, she was imagining the terrain, the layout of trees, the trails to and from her house, and that’s when it hit her…the pit. “The pit. Just off our driveway, maybe a hundred yards.”

“You’ve got a pit?” Carl asked with a furrowed brow. “What for?”

“To trap people. Dead or alive.” Scout shoved her arms through the backpack and grabbed her bow before heading up the embankment towards where she thought the sounds were coming from. She and her brother had dug the massive pit, roughly eight by eight feet, shortly after the outbreak when setting up traps in the area. What had started as just a small drop off in which they were going to fashion pongee sticks inside to damage the feet and lower legs of possible interlopers had grown in to much more out of sheer boredom and a little bit of good natured competition between siblings. Covered in crisscrossed branches to support the dark green netting and blanket of leaves, it had so far managed to produce nothing of any importance, which led Scout to believe that the wildlife in the area were smarter than they seemed.

The closer they got to the pit, the more convinced Daryl became that there was someone trapped inside. Clearly someone that was still alive, since the dead rarely called out for help. The voice was definitely female and by the sounds of it, very weak. As they neared the location of the pit, Daryl held his hand up to signal for the other two to stop. He took a few more steps forward before stopping to listen to the sounds around them, when suddenly his concentration was broken by the sound of a twig snapping next to them. Daryl whipped around to find Carl standing significantly closer to him than he was when he motioned for the other two to stop walking. Just as Daryl flashed an annoyed glare towards the teen, a voice broke through the dense silence of the forest. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” 

Scout held out her hand in a silent request for Carl to stay where he was and inched forward quietly to join Daryl. The voice coming from the darkened pit sounded small and weak; hoarse from exhaustion and likely dehydration. Her senses weren’t picking up on signs of a trap, but there was no way to be a hundred percent sure about that, so they stealthily navigated the area before easing to the edge of the pit to peer inside. Although it was deep and dark, the sun was still shining high above and with the beams that popped through the foliage above, they were both able to plainly see the person curled up against one side of the dirt wall. Peering up at them with big green eyes, was a little girl no more than ten years old with disheveled hair and covered in dirt and leaves. 

“”Hey, are you hurt?” Scout asked, dropping to her knees and leaning over the edge slightly to assess the situation, in spite of Daryl’s grunt of disapproval. She shrugged out of the backpack and tossed it on the ground along with her crossbow. 

“I…I think I hurt my ankle.” The little girl pointed to her right leg and whimpered a bit. “I landed on it funny when I fell.”

“How long you been down there?” Daryl asked as he slowly circled around to the other side of the cavernous hole in the ground. 

“Just one night. I…I was running and I stumbled, then I was in here.” The little girl pulled herself in to an upright position; wobbling slightly on her feet thanks to the injured ankle and exhaustion. “Please, will you help me out of here?”

“You ain't getting in there.” Daryl barked at Scout, knowing full well what she intended to do. “This could be a damn trap and you’re just itching to jump down there and let it happen.”

“Well, I am certainly not going to let that little girl stay down there.” Scout replied defiantly. “I’ll go down and help lift her up so you can get her out. It’ll be easier that way because then you can pull me out. Plus, Carl’s here if you need help.”

“What were you running from?” Daryl called out to the little girl as he moved Scout away from the edge of the opening, where she was perched and dead set on jumping down in to. 

“These guys. They came in and…and took me and my big sister. One of them let me go, I don’t know why. I…I think my sister may be dead, too.” The little girl whimpered and wiped at her eyes, leaving a dirty wet smudge across her face. “They stuck me in a closet and I heard some yelling and then this one guy, the nicer one, he came and let me out. I’d been in there for a really long time and I didn’t see Mindy again. He told me to be quiet and snuck me out of the house, I think the others were asleep, and said that I had to run. He pointed in one direction and said for me to run as fast as I could, that I had to get past the creek and then go until the driveway. He said that if I followed the road upwards that Scout would help me, but I got turned around. Then I heard something and started running again and that’s when I fell in here.”

The minute that Daryl heard the little girl say Scout’s name, he knew there was no stopping Scout from throwing herself in to the pit to help the child. “What’s your name?” He called out to the little girl as he tossed his pack on to the ground with Scout’s, before slipping his crossbow sling across his torso. 

“Megan. Are you Scout?” Megan called up hopefully to Daryl. 

“No, I am. This is Daryl, sweetie, and we’re going to get you out of there, ok?” Scout called out as she maneuvered from a kneeling position to sitting on her rear, hoping that she could slip down in to the pit easier from that position. She considered sending Carl back to the house for some rope, but changed her mind, not wanting to risk wasting any more time in case this was some sort of strange trap. Looking up over her shoulder to where Daryl was standing, she said, “Once I’m down, I’ll use one of those cheerleading stances and try to propel her up enough that you can lift her out.”

Daryl nodded and watched as Scout slid from the edge of the opening to land fairly gracefully in the damp dirt below; years of jumping out of trees made the descent easier for her. He turned to Carl and said, “Keep your eyes open. Watch my back.” He turned back to see that the girls were closer to the side where he was waiting and Scout had put her hands together to form a makeshift step for Megan to step on with her uninjured foot. Once the little girl had her foot securely placed in her hands, Scout used her thighs to help lift the child up towards Daryl’s outstretched hand.

Once Megan had been safely lifted out of the hole and seated on the ground close to Carl, Daryl turned his attention back to Scout. “What’s your plan?”

“Super jumping power, hopefully?” Scout said with more than a little doubt in her voice. When she was up top looking down the hole hadn’t seemed as deep, but now that she was down at the bottom looking up it seemed cavernous and damn near impossible to escape. “What about grabbing the netting and using it as a rope? Think it would hold?”

“Can’t hurt to try.” Daryl’s head disappeared from the side long enough to locate the dark green netting that had formerly held the debris that camouflaged the hole. After being outside for so long, the material was more than a little damaged though. “Don’t look too strong.”

“Toss it down. Like you said, can’t hurt to try, right?” Scout grabbed hold of the end of the netting that fell down from above and inspected it a bit; tugging on it to test its strength. “Maybe strong enough for one try.”

“Aight. Get to it.” Daryl called out, holding tightly to the netting with both hands and a silent prayer that the fibers were strong enough to allow Scout to pull herself out. From below, he felt a heavy tug and a string of curses as Scout slowly, but surely, inched her way out of the hole. After a few moments, he could see the top of her head when they both heard the telltale sound of ripping material. Daryl saw her eyes widen and made a quick decision. “Reach out to me with one hand, put it as close to my right hand as possible. Once I can grab you, I’ll pull you out.”

Scout’s heart thundered in her chest. While the drop wouldn’t kill her, it could easily injure her and that wasn’t something she wanted to experience again any time soon. She moved her left hand upwards as close to Daryl’s right hand as she could, but was still a few inches away from making contact with it. He didn’t let it stop him though. Daryl’s hand shot out and connected with hers, his left hand held tightly to the netting and held on to it as best he could, and used his body weight to fling himself backwards so that she came out of the pit in one try. Now on his back, Scout was on her chest in the dirt with her legs dangling partially still hanging down in to the pit, but was far enough out that she easily slid to safety. Still on her chest lying next to Daryl, Scout smiled and said, “See? I told you it would work.”


	36. Chapter 36

After brushing the dirt of her clothes, Scout gathered up her backpack and bow, slinging them both over her back, before going over to where Megan was sitting, sipping on a bottle of water that Carl had given her. Squatting down, she asked, “Can I look at your ankle?” When the little girl nodded and pointed to her right foot, Scout pulled up her pants leg and pushed down the pink sock to find that the whole area was swollen and bruised. “Have you been able to put any weight on it?”

“Not for long. Do you think it’s broken? I’ve never had a broken bone before.” Megan leaned forward to inspect her ankle with Scout.

“Try to wiggle it for me, ok? If it hurts just stop.” Scout watched as the little girl cautiously moved her tiny ankle from side to side with a grimace on her face. Although she was clearly in pain, the fact that she could move it around at all was a good sign. “Likely just a sprain, but you’re going to need to stay off it for a while.”

“This guy. The one that let you go. You know his name? Anything about him?” Daryl asked gruffly. Now that she was out of the pit, they could focus more on the business at hand…which was the fact there were a group of men somewhere in the area that clearly weren’t friendly.

“I don’t know. They didn’t use names around me. But, I gave them nicknames and his was Poofy Head. It was kind of long and blonde, but it poofed out like it wanted to curl, but it couldn’t. Like my sister’s gets during the summer.” Megan paused for a moment and tried to recall other facts about the guy. “Um, he wore a shiny watch, which was weird because no one has those anymore. And, he seemed kind of snobby.”

“Lance.” Daryl said instantly with a scowl on his face, the description matching only one person that he knew of in the area. For a second he wished once more that he had killed the man when he had the chance, but if he had killed Lance then the man wouldn’t have been able to let the little girl go and that thought changed his mind. “The others. How many we talking?”

“Six plus Poofy Head. But, the others are really mean. He said that Scout would help me.” Megan wanted to cry, but for some reason she couldn’t. Turning her head back to Scout, her lip trembled when she asked, “You’ll help me, right? You’re not mean, too, are you?”

“Of course I’m going to help you, sweetie. First things first, we need to get you back to our house and get you cleaned up.” Scout stood up and moved in to a position that she could pick Megan up and carry her.

“I got her.” Daryl moved over to where they were and eased Scout out of the way. Leaning over, he quickly lifted Megan into his arms and was instantly reminded of Sophia; his heart clenching at the thought of the other little girl in his life that he had been unable to save. Megan appeared to be around the same age as Sophia had been when she disappeared and definitely was just as small boned and weighed next to nothing. Forcing back the lump in his throat, Daryl turned to Carl and said, “You take point.”

The walk back to the house didn’t take long and it amazed Scout that Megan had been able to navigate her way through the woods well enough to get that close to the house and figured the child would’ve made it had she not fallen in to the pit. Scout had brought up the rear of the group, putting Daryl and Megan in the middle so that there was someone armed both in front and back to keep them safe. Watching him carry the little girl in his arms, close to his chest, made Scout’s heart skip a beat.

Once they were at the house, Maggie and Glenn were sitting on the swing and Rick was on the side of the house putting away the gardening tools for the day. When they realized what Daryl was carrying in his arms, Rick dropped what he was doing and Glenn rocketed out of the swing, both of them quickly made their way towards the returning group. Maggie, a good seven months pregnant now, eased out of the swing and went in to the house to notify the others.

“We found her in one of the traps.” Scout informed them before they could ask the questions that were clearly on the tips of their tongues when they neared. “Let’s get in the house and then we’ll explain.”

When everyone was inside, Scout had Daryl take Megan to their room so she could help the child get cleaned up while he explained what was going on to the rest of the group. Scout drew a bath and laid towels next to the tub and turned to Megan, who was sitting quietly on the stool at the counter. “I’m going to track down some clean clothes for you. You go ahead and take a bath and I’ll just crack the door open enough to lay them on the counter for when you’re done, ok? Just bang on the wall when you’re ready for me to come back in.”

“Scout? We’re you really a police officer?” Megan asked timidly before Scout slipped out of the bathroom. When Scout said yes, Megan continued, “My daddy was a police officer before he died. He always told me if I was ever alone and needed help I should always find another officer and that they’d help me.”

“Well, your father was right. Of course, I would’ve helped you either way.” Scout reached out and smoothed back Megan’s tousled hair. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

“That’s what Poof Head said.” Megan slid off the stool and slipped her tiny arms around Scout’s waist. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Scout felt tears prick her eyes and hugged her back. “Now, you get cleaned up so we can get some food in you, I’m sure you’re hungry.” She stepped away and gave Megan a reassuring smile as she closed the door behind her.

While she was intent on finding Megan some clean clothes, Scout stopped in the living room before heading upstairs. She perched on the armrest of the couch beside Daryl and asked, “Everyone caught up?”

“Yeah. Know about as much as we do anyway. How’s the kid?” Daryl inquired before discussing more pressing matters.

“I think she’s ok, physically anyway. I mean, what she’s been through? Shit.” Scout took Daryl’s hand in hers and held on to it tightly. “What are the chances of her running in to Lance, of all people?”

“Sounds like it was a good thing though, right? Daryl said there were others there, too. Who knows what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been there.” Michonne chimed in from across the room by the fireplace.

“I’m glad that she’s ok, that you guys found her, but what about the men she was running from? Any clue as to where they might be now?” Carol chimed in curiously.

“Six others. Haven’t gotten a chance to ask her if they gave any indication of plans or where they might have been.” Daryl paused and turned to Rick. “Figured let her get cleaned up and some food in her, then see if she can help us figure out where they are? What do you think?”

“I think we definitely need to find out everything she knows. They’re obviously close enough that she was able to get near the house within a day.” Rick stood up from the recliner and paced the area near the hallway. “Once she tells us what she knows, we can make a decision then.”

“I’m going to go find her something to wear. I have no doubt my parents have some of Jill’s old clothes packed away somewhere.” Scout let go of Daryl’s hand and headed upstairs to start searching closets.

Although she hadn’t been gone very long, Daryl ended up coming upstairs to find her and turned out to the one to find the box that Scout was searching for. Opening the lid to the plastic container he had found beneath a pile of linens, Scout did a little dance of joy when she saw the piles of clothes that had once belonged to her baby sister and mentally thanked her parents for being what basically consisted of pack rats. Digging through the container, Scout pulled out a pair of purple sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt from their Disney trip back in the 90’s, along with a pair of underwear. Scout still found it odd that they now lived in a time when people wore undergarments that once belonged to someone else, so long as it was clean.

“Go on. I’ll bring this down.” Daryl motioned with his hands for Scout to go ahead and leave before picking up the cumbersome container and bringing it downstairs with him. With the house full and all the bedrooms already spoken for, they were going to have to set Megan up on the couch and deposited the box of clothes by one of the couches and shoved it up against the wall.

In the bedroom, Scout closed the door behind her and made her way across the room towards the bathroom; where she cracked the door open wide enough to lay the clothes on the counter. “I hope these fit. How’s things going in there?”

“I’m almost done. I’ll be out in a minute.” Megan called from the bathtub just before pulling the plug to let the water out. When she looked over and found the door closed again, she awkwardly got out of the bathtub as best as she could with the swollen ankle and dried off quickly before putting on the clothes that Scout had brought for her. While they were a little on the long side, they fit well enough that all she had to do was roll up the pants legs and sleeves a little bit. When she was dressed, Megan opened the door to find Scout sitting on the bed waiting for her. “Do you have a comb?”

“Sure.” Scout got off the bed and slipped past Megan to grab a comb out of one of the drawers. After a second thought, she grabbed an old bottle of detangling spray from the cabinet beneath the sink, too. Turning back to Megan, she motioned for her to sit on the stool and said, “Want me to help? It looks pretty tangled.”

“Thanks.” Megan mumbled shyly as she sat on the stool, facing the sink so that she could see Scout standing behind her. “My mom always did this for me.”

“What happened to your mom?” Scout sprayed the detangling spray on Megan’s head and noticed that now that it was free of dirt and leaves it was actually a reddish color instead of just brown.

“The dead things got her. Mindy had to shoot her with daddy’s gun. That’s how the bad guys got us, I think. The noise. We were hiding in the house after and they came in and started going through our stuff. The really mean one found us hiding under my bed.” Megan sniffled and wiped at her nose; graciously taking the tissue that Scout took out of the holder on the counter.

“Do you know how long ago that was?” Scout asked as she sprayed a particularly thick clump of knots with more detangling spray. “How long you were with the bad guys?”

“It was still cold, but I don’t remember how long. I’m sorry.” Megan replied in a tiny voice, wincing slightly as Scout worked on her hair.

“No need to be sorry, you’re safe now. When you say they are mean men, what do you mean by that? What did they do that was mean?” Scout hated asking these types of questions and had never grown accustomed to asking children what type of abuse they had suffered while on the job.

“They just yelled at me mostly. Shoved me around, locked me in closets and stuff.” Megan paused and looked down to her lap, where she was fidgeting with her hands nervously. “It was Mindy they were really mean, too. They did bad things to her, I think. Always locked me up and then I heard stuff.”

“How much older is Mindy than you?” Scout asked, making sure to use the present tense until they confirmed that she was in fact deceased. She was curious to see if her assumptions were correct about Mindy, figuring that she was several years older and more developed than Megan, which would make sense as to why the men focused on the elder sister and left the young one alone.

“Four years. I’m ten and she’s fourteen, at least I think so anyway. We haven’t had a birthday party in a long time.” Megan looked at Scout in the mirror and continued, “Do you think we’ll ever have parties again?”

“Maybe. One day.” Scout finally finished combing Megan’s hair and grabbed a towel to start drying it as much as she could. The nights were still on the cold side, so she didn’t need to be running around with soaking wet hair. “Did you ever hear the mean men say what they were doing? What they’re plans were?”

“Sometimes. When they thought I was asleep. The guy you know, with the big hair? He told them about some place with lots of food and I think that’s where they were going, but I’m not sure. It was confusing because they kept walking further in to the woods and there aren’t any grocery stores in the woods, are there?” Megan asked full of wide eyed childlike innocence, having not a clue in the world that what she was telling Scout would send the whole house in to a panic.

“No, sweetie. There aren’t any grocery stores out here.” Scout hung the towel on a hook by the tub. Her mind was swirling with questions, but she didn’t want to overwhelm the child. “Megan, can you tell me anything at all about where you were? Any little detail that could help me figure out where the mean men are?”

“But, why do you want to go there? They might hurt you, too.” Megan’s lip began to tremble as she thought about what might happen if the mean men took Scout away from her as well.

“I’m not going to go by myself, but we need to make sure they don’t come here and hurt everyone else, too. And, you want me to go get Mindy, right?” Scout asked gently.

“Mindy can’t be saved. They took her and hurt her too bad.” Megan squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the images that were running through her mind. Hearing her sister scream from the other side of the closet door, her cries for help and the evil laughter from the mean men echoed in her head; refusing to leave.

Scout wrapped her arms around the little girl and desperately wanted to soothe away the horrors that were undoubtedly wreaking havoc in her mind. “You’re ok now. I’m sorry we couldn’t save Mindy, sweetie, but she’d be happy knowing that you were safe. You know that, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Megan sniffled and gulped for air as she sobbed against Scout’s shirt.

Scout let the little girl cry against her until there were no more tears. Once Megan’s face was washed and her nose was blown, Scout helped her in to the bedroom and down the hallway in search of the dinner that was filling the house with a delicious scent. When they reached the kitchen, the entire group was just piling in from the living room to start filling their plates with food. Knowing that Megan had to be teetering dangerously on the edge of a nervous breakdown after her emotional and physically tiring events of the past couple of days, Scout put her arm around the little girl’s shoulders and said, “Megan, meet everyone. Everyone, meet Megan. We won’t worry about learning everyone’s names tonight, ok?”

Later that night, after tucking Megan in on the pull out couch in a pink sleeping bag and an old teddy bear, Scout motioned for the rest of the group to follow her in to the kitchen before everyone went to bed. Once they were all squeezed in to the room, Scout closed the kitchen door, one that had likely never been closed before that she could recall and turned around to the worried faces of her new family.

“I couldn’t get her to tell me anything about where the group is, no land markers, distance, nothing. We’re going to have to get the location out of her somehow. There’s too many acres of woods out there to cover without some direction.” Scout sank wearily in to a nearby chair. “Megan said they’re going to a place that has lots of food, a place that Lance told them about. She thinks they were talking about a grocery store, but we all know where they’re coming.”

“Shit.” Daryl cursed as he took a seat beside her. “What’d else did she say?”

”Her sister’s likely dead. The guys abused her too much, raped her repeatedly, although I’m not sure that Megan really understands what they were doing. They locked her in the closet most nights.” Scout put an elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Mom and Dad are both dead. Not sure how it happened to the father, but mom turned and the sister had to shoot her. That’s what caught the attention of the men. Went to their house, ransacked it and snatched the girls out from under the bed. No clue how long they’ve been with them, but she remembers that it was still cold out.”

“She left what? Two nights ago? How much ground could she have covered in that time?” Rick crossed the room to grab a map that was on top of the refrigerator. Walking over to the kitchen table, he spread the map out and looked at Scout. “Where’s the pit you found her in?”

Scout leaned over to look at the map for a minute, got her bearings and pointed to the location with one hand and then put her finger on their location with the other. “Carol? Can you hand me a pen from the drawer?”

“Sure.” Carol reached in to the nearest drawer and grabbed a pen. “You really think you can figure out there location this way?”

“Maybe.” Scout uncapped the pen and went back to the map to mark off the previous locations she had pointed to. “She said he told her to run to the creek, which is here, and go past it until she hit the driveway. Megan said she got lost after she crossed the creek, but still managed to not stray too far off course." Scout used the end of the pen to make a line from the pit to the creek and considered the surroundings in her head. “She’d have had to come up from the creek at an angle since she used the walkway Lance told her to use. Remember? She said she slept under a bush until daylight so she could see it?”

“Yeah, so that’s what…right about here?” Daryl cocked his head and leaned closer to Scout so he could scrutinize that area of the map better. “Little kid, upset, middle of the night. Doubt she made it too far.”

“My best guess is here.” Scout used the pen to make a small mark on the map. “She said they were in a cabin and there are a few in this area. Jacob and I hit them early on so there’s no supplies, just shelter. It’s only a couple of miles from where you guys were camping.”

“What’s keeping them from us then?” Rick wondered as he pondered the map. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they knew the kid got loose and that Lance told her to find Scout? That we’ve been warned?” Sasha interjected, coming around the table to see exactly on the map that Scout had indicated.

“Could be that they’re planning on attacking at night. When we’re not prepared.” Michonne offered from across the kitchen by the back door, where she was cautiously looking out the window. “That’s what I’d do.”

“She’s got a point.” Daryl stood up and crossed the room to peer out the window as well. “We ain’t done watch in a while. Should keep patrol tonight.”

“I agree. Tonight we have watch patrols and tomorrow we head out to take care of the threat.” Rick folded the map up and stuck it in his back pocket. “Sunrise we head out. Me, Daryl, Michonne, Scout and we could use someone else….Sasha? Tyrese will watch the kids. Carol, Glenn and Maggie will watch the house.”

“I’ll take first watch with Maggie.” Glenn offered, “Whoever is going out tomorrow should get sleep.”

“Maggie is seven months pregnant, she needs her sleep, too.” Rick turned to his son and asked, “You up for watch duty?”

“Of course.” Carl eagerly accepted and headed upstairs to his room in the attic to get his gun belt and firearm; two items they hadn’t had to wear constantly since finding Scout’s house.

“Alright then. Two people on patrol at all times. If you get tired, find someone else to take over. Everyone else, get some rest. First light, we head out.”


	37. Chapter 37

After cleaning up from their long day and changing in to clothes that were more acceptable for hunting people in the woods, camouflage pants and dark green shirts for the both of them, they had both fallen on top of the bed in exhaustion. Deciding that it would be best to be as prepared as possible for a nighttime attack, Scout and Daryl opted for sleeping fully clothed on top of the bed. Scout felt as though she had been drugged and couldn’t tell how long she had actually been asleep when the sound of someone knocking on the door lightly woke her up. Groggily, she stared at the door for a moment in confusion before the implications of a knock in the middle of the night finally hit her. Scout sat up quickly, which caused a chuckle from Daryl in the near darkness.

“They ain’t gonna knock like that if we was under attack.” Daryl informed her as fumbled around looking for a flashlight on the bedside table. Once he found what he was searching for, Daryl crossed the room in the wake of the pale stream of light and unlocked the door. Opening the door, he wasn’t too surprised to find Megan on the other side, clutching the hand me down teddy bear to her chest tightly with one hand and dragging the pink sleeping bag behind her with the other. “Yeah?”

“Um…can I sleep in here?” Megan asked timidly, hugging the teddy bear even tighter to her chest. “It’s scary in there.”

Daryl was at a loss on what to do. Under normal circumstances, letting a small child you had just met in to your bed was a crime in the majority of the world. However, with the world being as it is now things had changed a lot. They had rescued her and Megan already seemed as attached to Scout as Scout was to her and there was no doubt that the child would be living with them from here on out, so surely it was ok to let her sleep in the room with them, right? Thankfully, Scout came to his rescue and cleared up the questions in his head.

“Come on in, Megan.” Scout called from the bed as she leaned over to light the lantern on her side of the room. “You can sleep in here.”

Still unsure of the situation, Daryl held the door open long enough for Megan to slip inside and waited until the sleeping bag was all the way past the threshold before shutting the door and locking it once more. He stood by the door, wondering if she was going to sleep in their bed and should he sleep on the floor instead. When Megan walked around to Scout’s side of the bed and laid out her sleeping bag on the floor, Daryl shrugged and joined Scout on the bed once more. 

“It’s just until she feels more comfortable here.” Scout whispered reassuringly into Daryl’s ear as she snuggled up against him; sensing his discomfort with having a child they barely knew in their room. “Then you’ll have me all to yourself again.”

The next time they were awakened, it was to a series of raps against the door signaling it was time to get up. Daryl had requested that one of the people on watch wake him and Scout before dawn so they could prepare for the day’s journey. Despite their worries, the other group did not attack at night, for which Daryl was relieved. While it meant a long trek for them, it also meant that the attack would be on their terms and not the others. Plus, there would be no risk to the members of his family that stayed behind, the house and their supplies. 

He shoved his feet in to the boots he’d placed by the side of the bed and laced them up before glancing over his shoulder to see how close to being ready Scout was. Seeing that she had already put on the lightweight knee high moccasins that she favored when hunting, he stood up and motioned to her in the dimly lit room. Once Daryl had her attention, he gestured to the floor where Megan was still soundly asleep, clearly exhausted after what all she had been through lately. 

Scout really didn’t want to wake the little girl, wanting her to get as much rest as possible. Plus, knowing that she and Daryl were going after the men that had hurt her would cause Megan a great deal of panic and Scout wanted to prolong that as much as possible. Reaching quietly in to the drawer of the bedside table, Scout pulled out a small notebook and a pen so that she could quickly write a note to Megan explaining where they were and to not worry too much. She placed the note on her pillow and whispered to Daryl, “Should we move her to the bed?”

Daryl crossed the room, leaned down and lifter Megan up as gently as possible, still wrapped in the sleeping bag, and placed her on the bed. The little girl was sleeping so heavily that even being moved barely produced a reaction from her, only a few mumbled words and sighs before slipping back in to dreamland. 

Once they were sure that Megan was in fact sleeping soundly, they slipped quietly from the room and headed in to the kitchen, where they found Rick, Michonne and Sasha already eating breakfast. Daryl headed to the stove to fill their plates with scrambled eggs and venison that Carol had gotten up early to prepare for them, while Scout got them both a glass of water, and then they both joined the others at the table. Breakfast in their home was usually filled with conversation and laughter before moving on to their assigned chores for the day. This morning, however, breakfast was a solemn affair; no words were exchanged as they nourished their bodies with food to insure that they had enough strength to accomplish their goal that day. 

“Be safe.” Carol said as they strapped on their weapons and backpacks. As they exited the house single file, she stood there in silence until they disappeared down the driveway, out of sight. 

Their trek was silent. Determined and focused, Scout led the group in the direction of the pit and, with the help of Daryl, tried to retrace Megan’s steps. Luckily for them, the weather the past two days had been full of sunshine and little wind, therefore there were still plenty of markers to lead the way. Following the scuff of her shoes, broken twigs and disturbed piles of leaves, they worked their way towards the area in the creek that Megan had crossed. Turned out that the child had not crossed at the location Megan had originally assumed, but further down in an area that would have been completely submerged in water had there been any rain in the past few weeks. Gingerly, they crossed the rocky terrain and stopped for a moment to check the map once they were all across and standing on the bank.

While Michonne and Sasha stood watch, Scout and Daryl surveyed the map with Rick; considering their options. Scout marked where they were on the map and looked up at their surroundings to study it for a moment before looking back down. “This way. Over here, about three miles from where we are now is an old hunting cabin. It’s not far from the campsite and cabins that I originally thought they might be. It’s more secluded, well off the beaten path.”

“Megan ended up further off course than she must’ve thought.” Rick studied the map, memorizing the markings Scout had made and then folded it up to return it to his back pocket. 

“Not by much actually. There was a trail that connected them at one point. I’m sure it’s grown up some, but she could have easily went that way for a while first.” Scout took a drink of water, capped the bottle and stuffed it back in her pack. “I say we get as close as possible, stow our packs for less weight, and Daryl and I will go on further to scout while you three stand watch. If the guys are there we can come back and get ya’ll.”

Moving on, Scout let Daryl take the lead, but stuck close to him so that they could both watch for signs that Megan had in deed came from this direction. After a few misreads and backpedalling, they finally ended up about a hundred yards away from the cabin in question. Scout motioned for the group to halt and shrugged off her backpack, storing it under a nearby bush for safekeeping. 

Leaving the other three behind as planned, Scout followed Daryl off the beaten path and they both silently headed in the direction of the hunting cabin. Within a few minutes, they were just outside the clearing around the cabin, hidden by the overgrown bushes. Watching the rundown cabin, they came to the conclusion that either it was empty or the men they were searching for were still asleep. Easing along the perimeter, sticking to the woods for as much camouflage as possible, they made their way around to the back of the cabin. 

Bows at the ready, they stealthily exited the cover of the trees and crossed the area between the woods and the back porch; what really consisted of a rickety set of stairs and a few wooden planks perched on top of cinder blocks. When Scout was in position, bow aimed at the back door, Daryl eased up the stairs to peer in the back window. Years of being unoccupied had left a thick coating of dust and dirt on the windows, making it difficult to see inside clearly, but Daryl could just make out the outline of a figure laying on the couch. 

Nodding to Scout, Daryl retreated from his position on the porch and slipped around to the side of the house. Standing on his tiptoes, he peeked in to yet another grimy window, this time looking in to a small bedroom and could plainly see a man sprawled across a bare mattress. He nodded once more to Scout and they quietly eased back in to the wood line to reconnect with the others.


	38. Chapter 38

“They’re in there. Ain’t sure how many, definitely saw two. Damn near lunch, lazy fucks.” Daryl announced when they were back with the others. “Two in front, two in back, one standing guard?”

“Good of plan as any, I reckon.” Rick remarked as he checked his revolver out of habit. “Let’s get this over with.”

Breaking off in to pairs once the neared the cabin, they eased up to the house as quiet as thieves and took their positions; Daryl and Scout in the rear, Rick and Michonne at the front and Sasha standing guard off to the side. Each set waited the predetermined three count and entered the house at the same time, Rick and Daryl both kicking in the dilapidated doors. Once inside, there was a flurry of commotion and confusion as the men were rousted from their slumber.

Three men were in the living room and stood no chance with the surprise attack. A heavy set man with a thick red beard and a stained white t-shirt that was no match for his protruding belly jumped off the couch closest to the door, but lost his head to Michonne’s katana before he could even draw the pistol on his hip. Another man, this one short and stocky with a ruddy complexion and bristly patch of kinky blonde hair on his head, lunged at Rick and was rewarded with a gaping hole instead of the top of his head.

Daryl left the last man that had resorted to falling on his knees and begging for mercy to be dealt with by Rick and headed down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom he looked in to earlier. Preparing to kick the door in, he was momentarily thrown off guard when it was yanked open and a lumbering man with a disheveled head of hair and unkempt goatee barreled through the doorway with thundering roar. Daryl stumbled slightly but regained his composure soon enough to fire a bolt through the man’s chest. The shot, however, didn’t slow the man down despite its perfect placement and Daryl fell backwards on to the dirty floor when the beast of a man tackled him. Thankfully, the crossbow ended up between them and therefor the end of the bolt protruding from the man’s chest barely pressed against Daryl.

Scout turned the corner just in time to see Daryl fall to the ground and started to lean over to help get the man off of him, but as she was about to do someone came out of the bathroom near the top of Daryl’s head. Tall and leanly built, the stare that Scout was met with reminded her of a shark; flat and dead inside. She pulled back her bowstring a split second before the weapon in his hands registered in her head. With an axe reared up to his shoulder, he started towards her and then noticed Daryl on the ground. With a growl of anger, he raised the axe higher with Daryl in his sights, but stumbled backwards as an arrow pierced the center point of his neck. Blood poured down his neck as he lurched backwards in to the bathroom and fell to the floor near the toilet.

Daryl managed to shove his now dead captor off of him enough that he could slide out from beneath the man’s impressive girth as Scout stepped around him in to the bathroom, following the other man to make sure he was dead. He quickly pulled the bolt from the dead man in the hallway and jammed it once into the guy’s head before turning back to check on Scout. He watched as she walked in to the room, turned her head towards the bathtub and raised a hand to her mouth in shock and let her bow clatter to the ground. She stood there for a moment, long enough for him to get to his feet and move forward in to the room with her. As he came up behind her she pulled her knife from her sheath and turned back to the man who was amazingly still alive; his hand clutching at the arrow, while the other searched for a weapon as Scout closed in on him. When he spotted what she had been looking at in the tub, his stomach roiled with disgust as he pulled the tattered shower curtain to close off the view from inside.

Standing over the man, Scout’s body shook with hatred and revulsion for what he and his friends had done to that poor little girl. Hunting knife in hand, she leaned down so that she was close enough to smell his fear; the stench of his unwashed body and coppery blood washed over her. Without saying a word, Scout buried the knife in to his gut up to the hilt and tugged it down sharply; he cried out in pain once as his bowels spilled out on to the cracked linoleum.

Daryl heard Rick and Michonne behind him and heard them say that the house was clear after finding the last one in the loft, but didn’t bother to respond to them. Stepping forward, he reached out to Scout, grabbed her lightly around the bicep and pulled her away from the bloody mess that was leaking on to the floor. Before leaving the bathroom, he pulled out his own knife and stabbed it in to the man’s head so he wouldn’t turn. “Come on, it’s over.”

Scout let him pull her out of the room and take her to the kitchen to get cleaned up. Blood covered her hands and she let Daryl pour water from a jug on the table over them and wipe them off with his shirt and knew they would never be fully clean of that man’s blood, just like they were still dirty from what she did to the Steverson brothers.

In the bathroom, Rick curiously stepped in to the room to see what had caused Scout to disembowel the man that was now dead on the floor; his insides now on the outside. Pulling back the curtain, he visibly flinched and held out a hand for Michonne to stay where she was. “You don’t need to see this.” He managed to choke out as he quickly pulled the shower curtain closed again and turned away from the tub. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply and tried to erase the image of that young girl bloody and beaten, naked and covered in what looked like bite marks, and partially submerged in a tub of her own blood; her lifeless eyes staring up at him, no longer pleading for help.

Daryl was holding Scout in the tiny galley style kitchen when he heard a noise from beside the back door, a shuffling of feet and the thud of something falling off a shelf. Looking over, he noticed a narrow door by the exit that he had missed when they had entered the house since it was partially covered by the open back door. He released his hold on Scout and grabbed his crossbow from the counter before crossing the room in two long strides and pushed the back door closed. Reaching out with his left hand, the crossbow held high with his right hand, Daryl turned the rusty knob and opened the door to find the rotting corpse of Lance staring back at him. He only had a second to register who was inside the closet when the walker lunged forward at him with its hands raised high. Daryl pulled the trigger and released a bolt that landed directly in Lance’s forehead. He leaned over Lance’s fallen corpse and pulled the bolt out, wiping it on his pants leg before reloading it in to his crossbow.

“Less satisfying than I thought it’d be.” He said grimly as he looked down at Lance. Turning back to Scout, he held out his hand to her. Daryl waited until she grabbed her crossbow and slid her hand in his and then pulled her towards the backdoor.

“Everything go ok?” Sasha asked as she ran around from the side of the house, the rifle in her arms cumbersome due to its size and weight.

“Define ok.” Scout asked with a half-smile, glad it was over. Turning to Daryl, she sighed and said, “I want to bury her, but that’s not possible is it?”

“No, sorry, she’s too far gone.” Rick pointed out as he joined them. “The minute we pick her up she’ll fall apart. Best we just leave her where she is.”

“You’re right.” Scout sighed and glanced back at the house with sadness in her eyes. There had been a tiny shred of optimism that they would find Megan’s sister alive and be able to reunite the girls, but that light of hope had been snuffed out. “Let’s go home then.”

By the time they dragged themselves up the stairs on to the back porch and started taking off their muddy and bloody boots, the magenta and deep purple skies were giving way to the dark of night. Scout had just tossed her boots on to the ground when the back door opened and Megan darted out and ran in to her arms.

“You’re back!” The little girl exclaimed as she buried her face in Scout’s shirt. “I didn’t know if you’d come home.”

“I told you I’d be back, didn’t I? We had to go take care of those men that hurt you so they couldn’t do it again.” Scout held on to her tightly and regretted that she was going to have to confirm Megan’s suspicions regarding her sister. She waited until the others went inside before pulling Megan away and motioning for her to sit down on the bench. “Sweetie, I’m sorry that I have to tell you this, but Mindy didn’t make it. She died.”

“I knew they hurt her bad. But she’s with our mommy and daddy now, and not being hurt.” Megan’s eyes watered and her chin trembled, but she tried her best to be a big girl like her sister. “You really took care of the mean men? They won’t come after me now?”

“They won’t ever hurt you again. I promise.” Scout wrapped her arms around Megan and held her tight against her chest. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Scout stayed like that, on the bench with her arms wrapped around Megan, comforting the child as she cried over the loss of her sister. Her head was pressed against the top of Megan's and held her tightly until the sound of the back door opening caught her attention. Looking up, Scout smiled as he stepped out on to the porch and closed the door behind him softly. "Hey."

"Just checking on ya'll." His voice was as gruff sounding as normal, but softer as he tried to not to interrupt their moment too much. "Dinner's about done."

"I think we're ok. Thanks." Scout looked down to find Megan staring up at her with watery eyes. "Why don't you go get washed up for dinner. I'll be right behind you."

"M'kay." Megan wiped her eyes and sniffled a few times before standing up and heading towards the door. She paused for a moment, as though she had forgotten something and couldn't remember what, and then awkwardly wrapped her arms around Daryl's waist; hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

Thrown off guard, it took Daryl a second to return the child's hug. Just as awkward as it had been for Megan to wrap her arms around him, Daryl returned the embrace. Not knowing exactly what to say, he mumbled in return, "Welcome."

Scout stood up as Megan pulled away from Daryl and hurried inside to wash up for dinner. "She handled the news well. Better than I probably would have at that age." She informed Daryl as she walked across the porch and in to his arms.

"Kids ain't dumb. She knew what happened to her sister before you told her." Daryl looked down at Scout and when he saw the expression he asked, "What?"

"Nothing really. Just finally got to save you for once." Scout smiled up at him, trying to make light of a terrible situation. Had she not rounded the corner when she did, Daryl would have ended up chopped meat with that axe headed straight for him.

"Pfft," Daryl scoffed at her words. Lifting his hand, he gently swiped a section of unruly hair away from her face and held her gaze for a moment before saying, "You ain't got a clue, do you?"

"What? That you're a big strong man and you can save yourself? We all know how manly you are, Daryl Dixon." Scout laughed and poked him in the side lightly.

"Nah. It's just that you done saved me a long time ago." Daryl watched as the amused expression drained from her eyes and was replaced with a gaze filled with love and desire. Dipping his head down slightly, Daryl captured her lips with his and kissed her with every bit of feeling he could, but still felt that what he could pour in to his kiss, his embrace, or his touch, would never fully convey how much he cared for her. Pulling back, he stared at her in silence, took in the beauty of her face and her kiss swollen lips and finally uttered the words he had been holding at bay. "I love you, Scout."


	39. Chapter 39

It didn't take long for the months to slip by and give way to the warmth of the summer sun, lush green grass and the bountiful crops they had painstakingly planted during the spring. After some discussion, the decision had been made to extend the small garden that had provided enough food for Scout, but had grown too small to fully nourish their growing family. While doing so had depleted some of the grassy area that the kids played on, there were still plenty of woods to explore and have fun in just as Scout and her siblings had done when they were growing up.

Although saying so generally jinxed the situation, Scout truly felt that things were finally looking up. Their last walker sighting had been months ago when Daryl had killed Lance at the cabin and the men they had killed that day were the last of the living, too. Sometimes that notion saddened Scout, but then she had to push that thought aside and remember that this day in age not seeing others was generally a good sign. Unless, of course, the others you stumbled across were the people that were now part of her family and you fell in love with one of them.

As the morning sun began to wake up, filling the night sky with lazy rays of orange, Scout rolled over to face Daryl, who was still asleep on the narrow mattress in the tree house. While they had taken to sleeping in the house on a regular basis, sometimes sharing their bedroom with the little girl they now considered to be theirs, the couple often snuck out into the night after everyone else had long since fallen asleep. Last night had been one of those nights, where the need to be alone with one another grew to be too strong of a temptation, and they'd slipped out of the house in to the cover of night after Megan had fallen asleep in their bed while listening to a bedtime story.

Turning over to face him, Scout placed a line of feather light kisses along his jawbone and lightly skimmed his bare skin with her hand, slowly easing it down his stomach until she reached her intended destination. She wrapped her hand around his thick shaft, already hardened with the morning hour, Scout caressed him until he could no longer deny his desire. Scout smiled when he woke, rolled over and pushed her in to the mattress with his weight. Nestled between her thighs, Daryl growled deep in his throat as he slipped inside of her wet heat.

With a moan of desire, Scout slid her hands from Daryl's shoulders and slid them down his back to cup his buttocks; digging her nails in the tender flesh to urge him to move faster. Giving in to her request, Daryl thrust deeper in to her; faster and faster, over and over, burying himself inside of Scout as they moved together. With his head buried against her neck, when Scout tightened around him and cried out in ecstasy Daryl bit down on the tender flesh at the curve of her neck and followed her over the edge.

After he caught his breath, Daryl rolled off of her to lay half on the mattress and half in the floor. Scout rolled over to brush a kiss across his lips before crawling across him, earning herself a slap on the ass in the process, and started getting dressed. With the sun eagerly making its presence known now, it wouldn't be long before the others starting waking up. Once Daryl was able to stand and follow suit, he quickly put on his button up shirt and now crumpled pants that had apparently spent most of the night partially on the mattress under them. Scout bundled up the sheets that were now in dire need of washing and tossed them to the ground before descending down the rope ladder after Daryl. When they were both on the ground, he pulled her in to his arms for a quick kiss before they headed in to the house.

While they had managed to get back inside before Megan woke up, they didn't managed to do so before Carol and were greeted with a knowing smile as she slipped past them in to the kitchen as they came in to the front door with sheepish, yet satisfied, smiles plastered on their faces. Scout shoved the sheets in to Daryl's arms so he could take them to the laundry room, kissed him once more, and followed Carol in to the kitchen to help start breakfast.

"Guess I don't need to say 'good morning', do I?" Carol asked teasingly as she started gathering items from the refrigerator for breakfast. "Manage to get any sleep?"

"Enough, I guess. Sometimes you have to sacrifice sleep for other things." Scout blushed and opened a cabinet to start gathering plates and glasses. "Want to cook outside this morning? It's plenty hot already."

"Sure. I'll get everything ready if you start the fire." Carol laid out the makings for a breakfast scramble; eggs, goat cheese, deer meat and some vegetables they had already been able to gather from the garden. Before Scout headed out the back door to the fire pit the guys had built a few weeks ago, Carol turned to stop her momentarily. "I know we've all said this a thousand times, but we're real happy here. Especially Daryl. I...well, there was a time when I was worried about him and I'm not anymore. You've been good for him, for all of us."

"He's good for me, too. With everything that's happened in my life, I honestly didn't think I could ever be really happy again and with him? I am." Scout grabbed a box of matches and kindling they kept in a metal bucket by the door and smiled at Carol before heading outside.

Carol had to admit to herself that while she was actually happy now, there was a small twinge of jealousy inside that she didn't know would ever truly go away. It wasn't that she was actually jealous that Daryl had chosen Scout, but more that there was no one to love her like he loved Scout. Although she was in a home with many people, she felt alone at times. There had been a fleeting moment when Megan had come in to their lives that she had actually thought she was being given another chance at motherhood, but after seeing the way the child had clung to Scout and Daryl the first few weeks, she knew that dream was yet another one not to be fulfilled. It was only when Scout confided in her that she was unable to have children that Carol had been able to relieve herself of the resentment that had built inside when Megan had chosen Scout instead. With a heavy heart, Carol brushed aside the feelings of loneliness once again and went back to making breakfast.

Later that afternoon, while Daryl was off with Rick and Carl checking the traps; both the ones to catch intruders and the ones to catch food. Scout was in the garden with Sasha and Maggie, who in spite of being supremely pregnant refused to stop working around the house. Scout and Sasha were digging in the garden, while Maggie sat on the ground nearby so that she could wipe the dirt off the vegetables and put them in the baskets. They had been out there for about an hour, enjoying the sunshine since it was not as hot today as it had been a few days before, when the silence was suddenly broken by a moan of pain.

Scout stood up and looked around before she realized that the sounds were actually coming from Maggie, who was now doubled over on her knees. Tossing her spade to the ground, Scout rushed over and dropped to her knees beside Maggie. "What's wrong? Is it time?"

"Uh-huh." Maggie managed to choke out between puffs of breath, trying desperately to remember the Lamaze breathing that Carol had taught her. "Glenn?"

"We'll get him. Come on, we need to get you in the house, ok?" Scout motioned for Sasha to go find Glenn and helped Maggie to her feet. Slowly, they made their way towards the house, Maggie waddling as fast as she could with her hands under her bulging stomach and puffing laboriously the entire way.

As they neared the house, Glenn came tearing around the side and nearly took out a flowering bush in the process. "Maggie!" He yelled out loudly, filled with a crazed combination of worry and relief upon seeing his pregnant wife.

Handing Maggie over to her husband, Scout rushed in to the house to find Carol, who hopefully remembered enough of what Herschel had taught her during Lori's pregnancy to get them safely through Maggie's delivery. Skidding to a stop in the kitchen, where Carol was busy cleaning counters, Scout frantically barked out, "It's time!"

"It's time?" Carol's eyes bulged in surprise. While they knew the baby could come any day now, knowing that today was the day still took her by surprise. Dropping her cleaning rag, she went to the sink to wash her hands and said to Scout over her shoulder, "Go upstairs, strip their bed and cover it with that plastic sheeting we found. Then get the towels I put in the bottom drawer in their room and we'll need hot water and the bag of medical supplies from the bathroom."

Scout bounded the stairs two at a time and careened in to Maggie and Glenn's bedroom, stripped the sheets and comforter in record time and tossed them to the floor in the hallway before spreading out the sheet of plastic to protect the mattress. Once that was complete, she gathered the towels and put them on the bed before darting to the bathroom for the medical supplies. By the time she rounded the corner to head back in to the bedroom, Glenn was helping Maggie undress so Scout quickly laid the supplies on the dresser and headed back to the bathroom for the hot water. After gathering a couple of buckets, because she really didn't know how much Carol would actually need, Scout hightailed it back down stairs because no matter how much she wanted a baby there was no way that she wanted to see how they actually escaped the human body.

Fully undressed now, Maggie had a brief moment of embarrassment at being so exposed on the plastic sheet with her legs sprawled open before the next contraction came and forced the thoughts out of her mind. Holding her husband's hand tightly, she panted and tried her best not to push until Carol said she could. Looking over at Glenn, her eyes filled with tears as memories of Lori dying during birth refused to leave her head. "I can't do it, baby. I can't. What if something goes wrong?"

"Nothing's going to happen, Maggie. Everything is going to be fine." Glenn brushed back her sweaty hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "You're going to have our baby. And he's going to be perfectly healthy and grow up to drive us crazy, because that's what kids do. You hear me? The both of you are going to be just fine."

"You don't know it's a boy." Maggie forced out between clenched teeth as another contraction ripped through her. Gripping his hand even tighter, she panted as the pain subsided for a brief moment and said to Glenn, "I love you."

"Not as much as I love you." Glenn replied, holding on to her hand and trying his best to not let the panic building inside of him show. Nervously, he looked over at Sasha first, who was there to help if it was needed and then down to where Carol was set up between Maggie's leg and watched helplessly as she looked up at his wife and told her to push.

From downstairs, the rest of the group waited as patiently as they could as Maggie's cries of pain filtered through the house to where they were piled in to the living room. Carl had thankfully took Megan outside to play, most likely to save himself from listening to what was going on upstairs rather than to keep her occupied, but the birth was taking longer than expected and night had fallen and forced them both back in side. Now, Scout was in the kitchen trying to figure out what to at least feed the kids for dinner when she heard someone stomping down the stairs in a hurry. Dropping the items in her arms on to the counter, she ran down the hallway in time to see Sasha enter the living room with a smile on her face.

"It's a boy!" Sasha announced with watery eyes.


	40. Chapter 40: The Final Chapter

A year had passed and summer was about to bloom, when Scout stepped outside to join Daryl on the front porch, where he stood by the stairs smoking a cigarette and watching their daughter. "You think Carl's tired of her being his shadow, yet?" She asked, leaning against the column beside him and followed his steely gaze to where Megan was sitting on a blanket next to Carl reading a book.

"Nah. Much as he complains to his dad about it, ain't no boy really annoyed when a pretty girl follows him around." Daryl reached out and pulled Scout to his side; throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Course, damn well better keep his mitts off my kid."

"Might not be able to control what goes on between them down the road. It's not like there's too many choices for dates around here." Scout replied in a teasing tone as she took the cigarette from his hand to take a puff. Due to dwindling supplies, she had taken to borrowing a puff or two from Daryl's cigarette on most days rather than having one of her own. Soon there would be none and then they'd both have to suffer withdrawals, might as well cut back as much as possible before that day came. "Still got a ways to go before we have to worry about Carl looking at Megan in any way other than the kid that pesters him, thank goodness."

"Yeah, well, like I said...better be a long damn time before that happens." Daryl growled, knowing if and when the day finally came that his little girl became a woman there was nothing he could do about it.

At an age that was no longer child and not quite a man, Carl was doing his best to make that transition in to adulthood happen sooner rather than later. His hunting and tracking skills were quiet proficient now, not in the area of Daryl and Scout, but well on his way to being one of the providers for the family. Now that Megan was with them, Scout had taken to staying home a few days a week with her instead of hunting with Daryl and on those days Carl picked up her slack.

"Nice day to have class outside. Bet the kids like not being cooped up in the house all day." Scout slid out from beneath Daryl's hold and stepped down the stairs to stand in the yard and enjoy the rays of warm sunshine on her skin.

Just before winter, Carol had been up in the attic digging around the piles of boxes to see what she could find when she stumbled across a couple of boxes full of old textbooks collected over the years by various members of the Grace family. After she lugged them downstairs and went through them in the living room, she had asked the group what they thought about her teaching the kids during the day; saying that it would give them a sense of normalcy that they had lost after the outbreak. While doing so meant that the chores she performed, along with what Megan and Carl did around the house, would have to be split up amongst the remaining members no one had objected the idea. Now, every afternoon when lunch was over and cleaned up, she and the older kids took over the kitchen and used it as a classroom.

"Hell, being inside's why I hated school so much. Can't take it too long." Daryl crushed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray and stepped down in to the yard to join Scout. The heat of the sun beat down on him as he brushed a kiss across her lips. When he pulled away, Daryl spied Rick and Michonne near tree line just outside the fence on the side of the house, partially tucked away in the shadows. Nodding in their direction, he asked, "Think something's up with them?"

"I know something's up with them." Scout said with certainty when her line of sight landed on the couple. "Just can't prove it, yet. But, I've caught them looking a little more friendly than normal on more than one occasion."

"Kinda always figured it'd happen." Daryl gave a half smile in their direction and let the subject drop. Turning back to Scout, he reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and said, "Gonna go help Glenn with the fence out back."

"See you in a bit. Time to relieve Tyrese, give him a sanity break." Scout watched as Daryl walked away, appreciating the view as he disappeared around the house. Once he was fully out of sight, she crossed the yard to where Tyrese was following Judith around as she toddled around in the grass. "I can take over for a while if you need a break." She announced when she was closer to them.

"I could use a drink. Thank you." Tyrese squatted down when Judith wobbled in his direction, reached out to grab his leg and fell over on to her knees. Picking her up so that she was back on her feet, he poked a finger in to her belly and made Judith giggle. "But I won't be gone long."

Pulling up a patch of grass, Scout watched as Judith toddled in circles around her. The little girl was on her third rotation when the screen door slapped shut and Maggie stepped out on to the porch with her baby boy in her arms; squirming for freedom, but not quiet old enough to be given free range. Within a few moments, they had crossed the yard to join Scout and Judith and Maggie sat Jackson on the ground before sinking down beside Scout.

Back on the day of his birth, Scout had been shocked when she was the first person called up to visit Maggie and Glenn after delivering the baby. Curiously, Scout had eased in to the room as quiet as a mouse and stood awkwardly by the door until Glenn all but forced her to come sit in the chair by the bed.

"He's beautiful." Scout had said, taking a seat in the rocking chair they'd lugged up from the back porch in preparation of the baby's arrival. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm ok. Although, some epidural would've been nice." Maggie had smiled and looked down at the squirming baby in her arms with a look of love and wonder. "But, he's perfect. Ten fingers and ten toes. Absolutely perfect."

"Have you decided on a name, yet?" Scout had asked, scooting the chair forward a bit so she could see the baby better. Most of the house had already assumed they would name the baby after Maggie's father if it was a boy, but Maggie and Glenn had never confirmed their suspicions.

"That's why we asked you up here." Glenn had explained as he joined his wife on the freshly made bed, perching on the side opposite of Scout. "We were wondering what your father's name was?"

"My dad? What for?" Scout had been truly confused at the question and had known her facial expression matched her tone of voice perfectly.

"Well, we just figured...without him, none of this would have been possible. If he hadn't built this house, stored all that food? Where would any of us be today?" Maggie had exclaimed with a voice that sounded on the verge of tears; the effects of the birth and the hormones that were going crazy in her body making her more emotional than normal.

"Oh. In that case, his name was Jackson."

Of course, his official name had there been a birth certificate was Jackson Hershel Rhee, but for now he went by Jackson. As with any child, there would come a day when the entire name would need to be used by the parents, but it would be a long time before he was able to get in to that much trouble.

"I dread the day that they're both up and running around. We're going to have to deploy extra nannies." Maggie sighed as she watched Judith run, or toddle-bounce fast like in one direction, and Jackson crawl along behind her. "I doubt Ty is going to be able to handle them both."

"Oh, I don't know. He's scary efficient in the baby department." Scout smiled and chuckled when Judith stopped to pull up a handful of grass and toss it at the baby on her heels. "It's a good thing she's got another baby to play with."

Maggie started to reply, but ended up having to jump up quickly and extract the unknown item from her baby's mouth. After pulling it out and inspecting it, she tossed the chewed up leaf back on to the ground and wiped her hand on her pants. Scout stood up and headed towards Judith, who was quickly trying to escape the designated baby play area and join her big brother, when Tyrese returned and swooped in to corral the little girl. Knowing that her watch was over, Scout stood up and brushed her hands over the back of her shorts and headed off in the direction of Megan.

"Hey, just checking in. You guys need anything?" Scout stood at the edge of the blanket, shading her eyes with one hand since the tree they were under wasn't blocking the sun in that area any more.

"Did you know that the eyeballs are the only part of the body that never grows?" Megan asked in lieu of an answer. Holding up an anatomy book, she pointed to the diagram of an eyeball and scrunched her nose up. "That's weird, right?"

"Very weird." Scout replied with a smile. Instantly forgotten as Megan moved on to the next page, Scout turned her attention to Carl and Carol and repeated the question. "Anything at all? Going once...going twice?"

"No, thanks. We're nearly done here, I think we can wait." Carol chuckled when Megan leaned over to inspect Carl's eyeballs closely. Of course, she and Scout knew that the eleven year old was just using the new information about eyeballs as an excuse to get closer to her crush, but didn't say anything that would embarrass her. "We've got maybe half hour to forty five minutes, then I'll head in to start dinner."

"Give me a shout if you want help with the cooking." Scout offered, but knew that Carol wouldn't ask since she preferred to make the meals herself. She turned away from the tree and headed around back to check on how things were going with the gardening, which Glenn and Sasha were tending to for the day, but changed course when she spied Daryl by the fence line.

Sneaking up behind Daryl, Scout slipped her arms around his waist and stood on the tips of her toes so that she could kiss him on the neck. Making her way up to his ear, she nibbled lightly on the lobe before whispering, "Still got a little bit before class is out."

"What the hell are we out here for?" Daryl growled deep in his throat and turned away from the fence. With a devious smile on his face, he scooped her up in his arms, and paying no mind to the rest of the people in the yard, started in the direction of the house. With her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck, he carried Scout through the front door and somehow managed to make it down the hallway to their room while she kissed and nipped at his neck.

Slamming the door behind them once they made it to the bedroom, Daryl tossed her on to the bed and stripped off his shirt before crawling up her body and settling himself between her thighs. Their coupling was quick, as it often was with that many children running around the house, and done so with half of their clothes still on. When they came together in a mad rush, Daryl was still wearing his jeans and boots, while Scout had only taken the time to remove her shorts and underwear. Now, sweaty from the lack of much needed air conditioner in the stuffy house, he was still buried inside Scout as he pressed his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath.

Damn near a year and a half of being together and Scout still didn't think the day would come when she would grow tired of being with Daryl, the feel of his skin pressed against hers, the taste of his lips on hers, and the feel of him buried inside of her. Just the feel of his softening member inside her was enough to have her body craving more, the heat from his sweat covered skin pressed against hers sent chills across her moist skin and the purely male scent that clung to his body overwhelmed her senses.

Afterwards, Scout slipped in to the bathroom to clean up and make herself presentable again. Once she had used the restroom, she stepped over to the sink to tame her hair and wash her face, which is when Daryl entered the bathroom and came over to stand behind her. Scout smiled as he brushed aside her hair so he could kiss her neck lightly; the ring on his left hand glinting in the afternoon sun.

Reaching up with her left hand, Scout took Daryl’s hand in hers and kissed the metal band that encircled his ring finger. Lacing her fingers with his, Scout smiled as she looked to where their wedding rings matched up with one another. Back at the beginning of this whole mess, the day the world went to Hell and she had been forced to kill her father, Scout had stripped her father of any personal items before leaving him lying on the floor of the hospital. At the time, she was just gathering the few things that she wanted to keep of her father’s, but now she was glad she had taken the time to finagle the wedding ring off his mangled fingers. Later that week, when her mother had put a bullet through her own brain, Scout had done the same thing; taking her wedding band set and diamond earrings, both of which had been in the family for ages.

There had been no ceremony. No exchange of vows or celebration afterwards. Instead, their commitment to each another had been made wrapped in one another’s arms, their bodies locked together, after making love in front of roaring fire over the winter. It had only been after Daryl had professed his desire to claim Scout as his own, after she had accepted his offer, that she had remembered the wedding rings in her jewelry box.

Daryl watched Scout in the mirror as she smiled at their joined hands and could not help to smile, too. If anyone had told him back in the very beginning, back when the world was just beginning to fall apart, that he would end up getting everything he had now…well, he would have laughed. How could one end up with everything he never realized he wanted until it was already his? A loving wife, a beautiful daughter and a wonderful family…three things he never knew were even possible for someone like himself. Somehow in the end of the world, he had managed to become a better person and find people that he not only loved, but loved him in return. Somehow it was truly never too late to find his happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read my story and especially to those who left comments and votes. I appreciate every single one of them!


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